Red Storm over Neverland
by Self-Taught
Summary: KB may be a mystery Castle can't solve, but this one is. Peter Pan turns into Derrick Storm and Beckett worries about Nikki Heat. But that is in the background of the drama. This is a slow building mystery with no angst. Fallon is back so stakes are high.
1. Peter Pan Is Bored

_Setting: Midway Season 4_

_Rating: T mostly for mild swearing._

_Disclaimer: Really? Does anyone really think Andrew Marlowe writes fan fiction? With enormous respect I acknowledge he is the owner of Castle and the amazing characters he let's us play with. Kudos Mr. Marlowe and kudos to the actors who portray them._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 Peter Pan is Bored<strong>

"All children, except one, grow up." Peter Pan by Sir James Mathew Barrie

Richard Castle was coming dangerously close to repeating history. There was a time, about 4 years ago, he had writer's _boredom_. (It was a precursor to writer's block.) Last time that happened he killed off his hero and had no clue what was next. This time he wasn't bored _with_ his character; he was bored _without_ his character. He needed that rush to distract him from that deep ache of wanting her, his muse, every waking moment. (He had his dreams at night, but that was a need best not seen during waking hours.)

He wanted her. He had in her in words, he wormed his way into her life through many deliberate deeds, but like every drug, he built up a tolerance and needed more of her. Since he couldn't have her love he needed a distraction.

He turned to his daughter as playmate.

"Alexis, time to stop moping around the house and go out for some fun. Join me for a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show?" He plopped on the couch dislodging the book tablet she got for Christmas and pulled out her ear buds to ensure he couldn't be ignored.

She distained to answer him, the glare being enough.

"Too inappropriate to view transvestites and adultery as entertainment?"

Sighing she resigned herself to schooling her father. "Dad, we can't go to a midnight movie together. Nothing says pathetic like a senior in high school and her dad going out on the weekends. Just because you tie yourself to unattainable relationships don't expect me to pick up the slack."

"Your concern for my mental health is touching and has nothing to do with your reputation of sitting home at ten pm on a Friday night." If she could push his buttons, he could push hers.

The red head was going to live up to her reputation, "If I was really concerned for your health I would lecture you about deplorable sleep habits since you write late into the night, you eat way too much take out food laced with additives and preservatives, and you seek police adventures with reckless abandon."

Instead of taking umbrage at her nagging he reminded himself that this was the serious woman in his life who didn't need teasing comebacks. "I sense that you are growing weary of the high school high jinx and are ready to move on in life?" Castle was experienced at protecting his women especially from themselves.

"If I'd been accepted for early admission to Stanford I'd be moving on. Instead I feel like I'm in limbo."

"And I predict you would have a heavy heart mourning for the imagined loss of all the fun with your life long friends while you struggled with being a new kid on campus. The grass always looks greener…" After softly encouraging her he tried to physically nudge her, "Laser tag? Winner gets out of laundry duty for the next week."

Alexis was not in a mood to be placated or play. "Dad, I really don't want you touching my laundry and I certainly refuse to do yours."

The millionaire author smiled at his down-to-earth daughter who ate healthy, cleaned up after herself, had modest spending habits, and was spending weekend night curled up on the couch with 100 Books to Read before You Die. "Honey, you've got time before your demise to get through great literature. Let's work our way through the best sci-fi movies of all times instead."

"Movies that reinforce death isn't permanent and the inconceivable happens but everyone lives happily ever after?"

"Yep. Because no matter what happens tomorrow tonight is good because I've got my favorite girl with me." He gave her a mega smile that left no doubt about the love for his offspring.

Further conversation was checked by commotion at the door. Martha Rodgers entered with a distinguished gray haired gentleman at her side. "Make yourself at home. I won't be long since I've spent a lifetime managing quick costume changes."

The Broadway actress noticed the extras in the room. "Oh excellent timing. Be good kids and entertain Nigel for me. We are going out for drinks." She paused as the man of the house came over to shake hands. "Richard, this dashing rogue is a government agent. Nigel, meet my son and best selling author. The beautiful creature lurking on the couch is my granddaughter, Alexis." Without further ado, Martha ascended the steps and exited the scene.

The men shook hands as Alexis scooped up her book pad. "If you'll excuse me…" She gave a polite smile and followed her gram up the steps.

"May I get you a drink?" Castle offered as his eyes swept over the man. He filed away the characterization: mixed heritage, longer hair than most older men wore, lines of wisdom etched into the face, broad shoulders but of average height.

"No thank you. Something tells me I better pace myself with Martha." He did his own assessment.

Castle chuckled at how well the man seemed to peg his mother. "As a dutiful son I am relieved to hear you're trying to keep your wits about you." He was beyond the what-are-your-intentions but still continued to size him up.

"Your reputation precedes you, not as an author, but as a man who reads people well." The older man's eyes twinkled as he waited for the curiosity to prod the mystery writer.

"Care to share?" Castle searched his memory for people who knew a Nigel and drew a blank. Then again, the government liked its paperwork and any number of agencies might have a dossier on him. The thought made him rather gleeful.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, our time is short because I wager Martha won't keep me waiting long. Know this: I've been candid with Ms. Rodgers with my intentions for the evening and the reason I sought her out. You have a protective streak I don't wish to engage so I hope your impression of me is honorable or trustworthy." He paused to level a charming smile on the younger man. "I am counting on it."

"CIA? No wait, you said trustworthy. FBI - too obvious. NSA? Those people like to play it close to the vest!" Rick saw no sign of hitting the truth so he kept up the game. He paused to evaluate the man further. There was a hint of an accent. The cut of the suit jacket was European understated quality. No flashy silk tie but a red kerchief was folded neatly in the breast pocket. Leather patches accented the elbows and trimmed the collar. Really, could the man be any more obvious? "MI5! You are with the British Secret Service! Oh damn this is like a dream come true. Not that I dream about men but I do dream about conspiracies and mysteries and UFOs…"

Nigel chuckled at the mischievous mind before him. "I admit I've been to the Old Haunt and had a few pints of bitters. Other than that, I'm more New England than England. Sorry chap!"

Castle strung it along even as he wondered about the man's reconnaissance of his establishment. "Of course you can't tell me, you'd have to kill me. Come on; say your full name for me. Is it Bond, James Bond?"

Nigel had not been briefed about the sense of humor but after having met Martha it wasn't a shock. "Bigtree, Nigel Bigtree."

Native American mixed with New England English? Yeah, that fit. "Ooo, this is good enough to be in my book. You are a liaison between government treaties and tribal rights?" Hopefully by correcting Castle he would reveal his affiliation. Richard hated to be reduced to asking his mother to fulfill his curiosity.

Rick's curiosity was destined to go unfulfilled. Martha descended the stairway and captivated her date's immediate attention. "There. This proves I am a woman of many talents since I've kept you waiting nary a moment." She saw the perturbed look on her son's face and teased him, "Don't pout Richard, you'll have to forgo telling Nigel about the time you were vetted as a writer for the Bond series."

Nigel enjoyed the interchange and played along. He clasp Richard in manly hug and feigned his sorrow at the miserly amount of interaction the men shared. "Maybe I'll run into again someday, until then, I dare not keep the lady waiting." He pulled back from Castle and offered Martha his arm with a flourish.

Castle watched them exit without a backward glance and huffed to himself. It was still Friday night and he was still bored. He looked around the empty room and weighed the consequences of calling Beckett. They had a dead ex con. The case was routine. It was a matter of waiting for forensics results and warrants, but Saturday was going to be an extra work day for them. Better not call her but he wondered if he might get away with a text message. Absently he searched his pockets for his phone.

In his pocket he found a folded sheet of paper. Wondering what note he had forgotten and praying it wasn't an important reminder for something that already occurred he stiffened at the neatly scripted message. _Your partner is getting a letter from inmate 42678A33. We need to know what it says. Call 212-555-3948. Mark sends his regards and hopes you two finally thawed._

An unknown government agent slipped a clandestine message into his pocket. Castle did a happy dance and thanked the fates for his charmed life. He wasn't bored anymore.

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><p><em>Author's Note - The story draws on Setup and Countdown S3 - You don't have to know those episodes well, just recall that they were after a dirty bomb. (At the time I published this there were NO stories that featured the Homeland Security Agent.) <em>

_The story is completely written, but I pour over reviews to edit unpublished chapters. Sometimes I need to emphasize or clarify points based on what readers respond to. This is helpful because the story isn't read by a beta reader._

_Next point, there is an ongoing analogy to Peter Pan throughout the story. You don't have to know that fabled plot, but if you like that kind of symbolism have fun with it (I did. It's based off the original novel, not sequels or Hollywood movies.)_


	2. Fallon's Request

"I have given me word not to lay a finger, or a hook, on Peter Pan. And Captain Hook never breaks a promise."

Saturday

**Fallon's Request**

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><p>"Where's Beckett?" Hurriedly Castle plopped down the coffee cups on her desk and glanced around the bullpen, anxious to deliver the secret message.<p>

He glanced in the break room. _Nope. Not there. _"I sent her a text last night but her only reply was 'In bed.' I really need to talk to her!"

"Bro, settle down. She went to see if the witness could ID our suspect from a photo line up. She'll be back any minute."

"Maybe she wasn't alone in bed, Castle." Ryan loved to get him riled up. "She might have been curled up with Patterson's new book."

"Very funny. Just because Jenny curls up with my books in bed doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."

"Early to bed, early to rise, Castle." Beckett's voice came closer and he spun around to see a bright-eyed detective with a satisfied smile on her face. "And you do not win any awards as an early bird."

The writer momentarily forgot all else and he rejoiced in the moment of being here, with her, and the intellectual stimulation of their work together. He grinned as she reached his side.

Her face puzzled and she spoke softly, "Everything ok? Your jacket smells like… soot? Is that why you were trying to get a hold of me last night?" She looked horrified at the thought she ignored him because she was too tired to care.

Gates interrupted the knot of detectives. "Castle, my friends in the fire department are expecting a suitable act of contrition for their early morning visit to your dwelling." She folded her arms smugly and enjoyed revealing him for the buffoon he was. Satisfied with his embarrassment, she turned her attention to her real employees and got them back on task. "Where are we on the case?"

Beckett wanted to get rid of Gates quickly so she answered for the team, "We got the fingerprint results. Our witness just confirmed the perp running through the lobby and tripping over the plastic chair at the time of death is Leo Thorn." She held up the 8x10 photo. He is an ex con who just got out from a short stint after robbing a pharmacy. No known association between the two, but our victim has done time for illegally selling prescription drugs. No leads on suspect's whereabouts."

The captain nodded. She might just be coming into work but she was pleased to see progress since she left last night. "What is your next move?"

"Thorn testified against his accomplice for a shorter sentence, so we'll see if the inmate is willing to cooperate. If so we'll ask about known hideouts and associates. We are going to pull the old case file on the robbery and see what that turns up. If the stash was never found it could imply motive between supplier and seller."

Gates must have been satisfied because she nodded and retreated to her office. Everyone else gathered around Castle for his latest misstep. "Dude, details!"

He never shied away from the spotlight, good or bad. "World's best dad was making breakfast, he got distracted, and the bacon grease caught fire. I might have gotten a few drops of water on it so things got worse before I was able to safely smother it. I opened the door to the loft to air out the smoke and it set off the building's fire alarm." He was rather chipper despite the ordeal.

Beckett suspected there was more to the story. She let the boys rib him a few minutes then reeled them in. "Come on Castle; let's get you out of here before the captain decides you are a menace to public safety. We'll head over to the prison and you guys pull the old case file and talk to the detective of record."

"No way, Beckett. We can't leave yet." Castle pleaded with his eyes.

His partner was at a loss. "The lead detective was Demming. Do you want us to stay here and talk to him about the robbery?"

Castle choked at the thought.

"I didn't think so. Let's get out of here. The sooner we close this case the sooner we get home for the weekend." Belatedly she realized that was probably why he did _not_ want the case closed too quickly - he could avoid writing or going home to an empty apartment.

"How soon does the mail get delivered?" Again, he asked with his eyes for leeway.

Beckett made the boys get lost and demanded answers without ever saying a word.

"You are getting a letter from an _inmate_," he whispered quietly. "Full details on the way, but the timing is too good to pass up."

A thousand questions flooded her mind, but Beckett nodded slowly and he could see the trust reflected in her features. She kept her voice low, "The mail should be downstairs now. They sort it during the morning and deliver it whenever they get time. We'll stop on our way out."

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><p>The letter for Detective Beckett, 12th Precinct, from inmate Gage Harding #42678A33 was held reverently in the hands of the author. As soon as the detective settled into traffic, he began his narrative of his mother's date and recited the message word for word.<p>

Fearing he would lose the note or allow it to fall into the wrong hands, he decided the secret correspondence needed burning. He watched the paper blacken and render the words indecipherable instead of noticing the flames climbing towards his fingers. When he dropped the flaming mess it landed on a dish towel starting a larger fire.

Grabbing the sprayer from the sink he put out the flames only to wonder why the smoke was increasing. Then he realized the bacon had burned and another small blaze was erupting. Without thinking he started to spray water on it belatedly realizing it was a grease fire. He waited for her abuse. James Bond he was not.

"Hands. Now."

He hesitantly put them out figuring he was going to get them smacked like a 4 year old. At the lull in driving she took them both, turned them over, and checked his fingers for burns. Satisfied that her favorite writer wasn't crippled she got down to business, "OK firefly. Any doubt in your mind Nigel Bigtree works with Mark Fallon?"

"None whatsoever. I resorted to asking my mother about him, and she confirmed he works for Department of Homeland Security. He told her I was 'either the luckiest bastard or the most skilled electronic wizard' he'd ever heard about. Oh course my mother quipped that she knew for a fact which one was true. So that seemed to be another hint that he knew about the dirty bomb."

The detective processed the information and random events in play. She formed her plan and enlightened Castle on his part, "I've got a covert job for you when we get to the prison. Ask to visit inmate by the name of Simon Wyle. He's a convict who thinks I'm the nicest person in the world even though I arrested him for 2nd degree murder. Since Nikki Heat made her appearance he's got quite an obsession with me. Tell him who you are and he'll tell you anything you want to know. Ask him about Thorn's partner, Lionel Rosewood, for our case. Then find out what he has to say about Gage Harding."

"I like being your shadow operative, but shouldn't I open the letter and read it so I can ask more pertinent questions?"

"No. I don't want you to inadvertently ask leading questions or give something away. I know you're good, but you can't reveal anything if you don't know it. We will compare notes on the way home."

"What will you be doing?"

I'm going to take care of the case work first. Then I'll ask for Harding almost like it's an afterthought."

It was a hectic Saturday at the department of corrections with visitation from the general public at its busiest. Castle departed for his task and Beckett read her letter. Her initial assessment was an anomaly got dumped on her, but not one worthy of federal interest.

She got the scoop on their suspect, Leo Thorn, and then spent some time with Gage 'the cage' Lucas Harding. Neither convict lied to her, but the one asking for her help was less forthcoming the con she asked for help. All in all, it was a worthwhile use of their time.

Both she and Castle were on their way out when something unusual happened. Castle was walking behind the detective watching her ass. Nothing unusual there. But it allowed him to see another visitor reaching to grope her tush as he made a derogatory sounding comment in Russian. When Rick intercepted the hand he was unprepared for the Russian's thumb lock that caused him to squeak in pain. That caused the cop to whip around instinctively protecting her partner and putting the offending sleaze bag up against the wall.

They traded quick phrases in Russian before the guards offered their assistance to Detective Beckett.

She released the oversexed perp and took time looking him over. His black slacks and dark red shirt rolled up to the elbows was a contrast to the hoard of jeans and t-shirts the other visitors wore. Finally she ordered, "Name?"

"Я не отвечаю вам." _(I don't answer to you.) _His swashbuckling attitude was unchecked.

She gave a nod to a guard and glanced towards the perp's pocket. The correction officer dug the wallet out and handed it over. Beckett looked at the driver's license. "Aleksandr Smee, beware next time we meet." She gave him a threatening stare and then turned her back on him to show his unimportance. "Do you want to press charges against this man for assault?"

The writer knew that was the last thing Beckett wanted and followed her lead, "He isn't worth my time."

Beckett turned to her fellow law enforcement officers and thanked them. She and her partner moved away and kept a wary eye open. When they reached the parking lot a large black sedan was waiting. Beckett ordered Castle into the crown vic as she stood outside her car with arms folded over her chest. Of course he ignored her. When did he ever stay in the car?

Smee opened the front door of the dark sedan allowing their exchange to be overheard. "Y всех нас есть хочет. _(We all have wants.)_ Mожет быть, мы можем заполнить потребности друг друга.

_(Perhaps we can meet each other's needs.)_

He laughed as he got in and shut the door, and the car slowly rolled away.

The detective was more interested in the other occupants of the car and the faint whiff of cigar smoke. She waved off Castle's umbrage at the visual undressing the sleaze ball gave her. First things first. She pressed her speed dial, "Ryan, our suspect is known to hang out in the United Nations district at a pubs looking to score off of drunken victims. Let's reach out to uniforms in the area. Castle and I are heading back now, but we'll stop for lunch on the way."

She hung up and jotted down some info in the notebook she carried. Castle was nosey and leaned over to see what it was. _Aleksandr Smee. Brooklyn. Tattoo of a tiger on inside of left forearm. Speaks Russian. NY plate PTR1212. Minor assault on RC. Sexual harassment. _

"What did he say to you? Inside when you slung him up against the wall, what did he say?" Castle's voice had none of the usual glibness as he wondered how this beautiful woman constantly put up with unwanted advances, his own not withstanding.

"I reacted because you let out a squeak of pain, not because of what he said." She put the car in drive and maneuvered into traffic and back towards the status quo.

"Please?" He begged with eyes, forgoing the whiny voice in lieu of sincerity.

They had some uninterrupted time together before the detective was back in her jurisdiction, so she indulged his curiosity. "Since I didn't have a ring on my finger he wondered if it was in my navel or lower."

Castle's lips pursed into a frown. He would love to give her that symbol but he reigned in his desires and consoled her with distraction. "Your fan club is just as devoted as mine, but much creepier. Inmate Harding, aka 'the Cage,' isn't in a gang and has a reputation not to be messed with. Keeps to himself and does his time without too many problems."

Beckett knew that already but it confirmed there was a problem. She enlightened the puzzle master to get his input. "Harding is up for parole and likely to get it. He is a Special Forces veteran who killed his sister's boyfriend. The boyfriend had been beating up his sister and when he came back from overseas and found her in the hospital he snapped. Considering prison overcrowding and the fact he isn't deemed a threat to society at large, this is a guy they'll readily cut loose this time." She paused as she navigated around a delivery truck stopping in front of them. "Last year I sent a letter to the parole board supporting his early release, but he was still denied. This year he wrote to ask me to voice _opposition_ to his parole."

"What? This doesn't make sense! His record while incarcerated is too clean to mean he's running drugs or protection service. He's not in a gang. He's got marketable skills to allow him to earn a living on the outside. Why in the world doesn't he want out?"

Beckett shot a smirk at the writer. "I don't keep you around for your good looks. I need some theories since Harding won't give me a straight answer."

He never wanted to disappoint her so he changed the angle of the story. "Bigger question is what the Department of Homeland Security wants with your guy. He saw something during his time in the service and they want him back." It was ordinary and unworthy of him so he tried again. "His sister is going to marry to marry a terrorist and they want him to intercede but he doesn't want to interfere with her happiness." That was too heartbreaking for him so he relied on a standby quip, "He was abducted by aliens and knows he is safer in jail." He gauged his success solely on whether or not she smiled. She did; he was happy.

They stopped for lunch at a Greek diner. Castle complained they couldn't settle their debate about the merits of malts versus shakes at this place, which is exactly why Beckett chose it. Regardless, they sampled each other's food and shared some closeness and accidental touches while they enjoyed the last remnants of freedom from the prying eyes of the city.

Before she started the car, the detective checked her watch and tossed the letter to Castle. "This is when the mail usually gets dumped on my desk. Since they contacted you, I'll let you call it in to DHS."

His glee knew no bounds. "I love my job!" Beckett rolled her eyes, but maintained her silence. He dialed the number and waited through the agonizing number of rings. Just before his pout grew insufferable, the call was answered. "This is Mr. Richard Castle… yes… Do you want me to read it verbatim or summarize without embellishment? … You don't have to get snippy… He wants her to speak _against_ his release for parole."

He listened to the new set of instructions with surprise and shot a worried look at his partner. "Uh, will you tell her that part for me? She won't believe…" He pulled away the phone and looked to verify that they did indeed hang up on him.

"Well?" Her impatience was growing.

"Uh, I swear this is what he said. I wanted him to speak to you directly…"

"Castle…" the growl was ominous and his delay was making it worse.

"Our presence is requested at a formal ball this Friday. Invitations will be sent to me by messenger. Your company as my date is 'mandatory.' His words not mine." He flinched just from her glare.

"So help me if this is some elaborate scheme of yours I will hurt you."

"This should prove otherwise. He said it was high time I met my good friend the _governor. _It is his annual gala we will be attending."

Shit. She smacked him anyway.


	3. Buildering A Case

Monday

**3 Builder-ing A Case**

"I am responsible for it all… Mia culpa. My fatal sense of humor, dearest." - Mr. Darling in Peter Pan

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><p>Ryan was mere days away from his wedding and he couldn't help but think in terms of matrimony. This man and this woman acted like an old married couple who mirrored each other. He watched as the couple sipped their expensive coffee, dressed in expensive leather jackets and expensive shoes. They mimicked each other without even realizing it. Even now they matched identical expressions waiting for his report.<p>

Ryan sighed, "According to the anonymous call the victim started 12 stories up and climbed down the outside of this old office building. His last feat was to walk the wire between these 2 buildings and then was going to scale down the arch out front completing his Spiderman act." His breath hung in the frosty predawn morning.

Both Castle and Beckett looked up simultaneously to see the wire. Esposito helped them out, "The wire gave way and spidey took a header."

"He must have run out of web juice." Castle contemplated the nuisance of checking such inventories.

Like any good work wife, Beckett pretended not to hear the stupid stuff even if a smirk threatened to betray her. "Lanie, any preliminary findings?"

"Victim is early 20s, excellent physical condition, hands callused like you'd see on a rock climber. Broken neck so that is probable COD. No wallet or id."

"Any indications of safety equipment missing?"

Esposito shook his head. "These building climbers don't use it."

Castle started sharing, "Builder-ing is the urban term. It's a cross between building and boulder climbing. Different from parkour because…" Castle's voice trailed off at the cold glares that suggested his arsenal of knowledge could wait for a warmer venue.

Beckett honored the victim with her unwavering focus. "Okay. Ryan I want you back at the station combing through internet postings and video looking for background on this guy. Esposito, stay here and make sure CSI gets a ladder in here and checks out where the wire pulled out of the building. This appears to be an accident, but we need to make sure."

She stepped away and strategized with her other half, "Since what they do is illegal, we are going to have a tough time getting leads. Any chance you know a guy who knows these people?"

He lived for moments like this. Moments when she stared into his eyes, hopeful and needy. And the payoff, "Sorry, I don't know a guy…" He watched her expectations be fulfilled and then ended his dramatic pause, "but I do know a _gal_ who knows someone."

She batted his arm playfully. "How soon can you…" Her voice trailed off. For every moment of exasperation he caused, there were more and more times like this where her emotional and professional life collided and she lost herself in the fairytale.

"I'll send out a text and see how much she knows. This afternoon would be the earliest she'd meet us."

Beckett nodded. She directed some uniformed officers to check with nearby stores for external security cameras. They walked with matched strides back to the car and Castle kept quiet as Beckett made her field notes. Once she was safely navigating the light traffic he broached a sensitive topic.

"Umm. Please don't be mad but I made an appointment for you at lunchtime."

She was mad. Too mad to speak or even give him a tongue lashing. So much for the fairytale.

"I know I am presumptuous, but this is time sensitive and I feel responsible and precedence is on my side." His rambling was making it worse. Then again, it was going to get worse before it got better. "The appointment is with a dress designer about your gown for the Governor's ball. There is a designer boutique that handles custom clothing for both my mother and daughter so that tells you how good they are at a range of styles. They're not an international big name label, but they are one of the best in New York." She froze her features so he had little insight on her feelings.

She worked in a world of dead lines and dead guys. He lived in Neverland where darkness never descended so Cinderella could stay out past midnight. A ball gown was the farthest thing from her mind. "Castle, you don't have to buy me a dress and I certainly can't afford a custom made gown."

He wanted to relive the ecstasy of dressing her and hide the fantasy of undressing her. Aloud he tried for banter, "You know what a klutz I am. If I buy the dress I won't feel as bad if I inadvertently spill something on you." He waited another moment and openly begged, "Please let me." He watched her war within herself.

Kate's voice betrayed the battle was over excepting a feeble protest. "Is this just a way to make sure your arm candy doesn't embarrass you?"

She was the kind of arm candy who could wear a cotton nightgown and make it look gorgeous. But Castle followed her lead. "You know me too well. A public outing like this will end up being a tax write off for me."

"If that's all, you would just decide what Nikki Heat should wear and send it over." It came out harsher than intended and she softened her words. "It worked out well last time. You have exquisite taste in women's clothes." Yes, even the sexy undertone was intended this time.

"Only for you, Katherine Beckett." He used a low and throaty tone to utter her full name wanting to distance Nikki's role in this. "It is important to me that you are comfortable in whatever you choose."

"In other words, you weren't sure how much skin I want to show." The red dress from their previous dance would definitely show her bullet wound.

_Should I admit it? This isn't something to joke about… _"Yes."

She paused a second wanting to say so much. Instead she offered a quiet, "Thank you, Rick."

* * *

><p>Beckett came back from lunch and was all business. "Esposito, any progress getting an ID on our tight rope walker?"<p>

"Fingerprints aren't in the system. He had on climbing shoes but they are widely sold at specialty stores and over the internet. I've got nada."

Ryan volunteered more frustration, "Surveillance footage is a bust - it's all street level. Most of the YouTube video or websites I've found are on guys who did this decades old. Current trend is that some do it for notoriety, but the serious group does it for the challenge. They keep their faces hidden so they can't get busted."

Castle saw her frustration. If they had to wait until a missing person report came in the leads were cold by then. "Our informants left campus and will be here anytime now."

"Plural? I thought your informant would be reluctant to share too much."

"This one is kind of in love with me and will do just about anything." He saw the jealous flash and smiled.

Her retort had bite, "Got a coed on speed dial for every need?"

"Not a coed yet. Both still in high school."

"Castle, I can't interview minors about potentially illegal activities without their parents' permission." She was annoyed with him.

"You have my permission." He loved it when he got ahead of her and watched her thoughts catch up.

She chided herself to get a handle on these jealous flashes. "What about the other kid?"

He gave the full disclosure, "Sidney is 18 and has a bit of a crush on Alexis. Now that she is single again, he's trying to impress her. That included showing some the acrobatic feats he and his friends do for fun. He's into parkour - vaulting, climbing or jumping obstacles to move fluidly through an urban setting, but he knows guys who do buildering or urban building climbing. When she asked him if he'd talk to us, he jumped at the chance (figuratively) to do anything for her."

"Promise you won't use the interview to vet him as a potential boyfriend."

"No need. Alexis is still in the post-breakup mope."

"A smart woman knows to get one relationship out of her system before she gets up and tries another one."

Before he could respond to the double meaning a flash of red hair called to him. "Dad, Detective Beckett, this is my friend Sidney." They shook hands and the savvy detective led them all into the break room which was fortunately empty of other cops.

Unfortunately Gates immediately came trailing in. "Having a family reunion on precinct time, Castle?"

Alexis answered before the adults could respond, "If you don't need this information for your case anymore, we'd be happy to go do better things with our time." She ignored that woman knowing exactly what she was doing and what Gates thought of her father.

Beckett inwardly smiled at her spunk and calmly responded to Alexis, "The NYPD thrives on input from helpful citizens. You are saving us a lot of wasted hours by pointing us in the right direction." Beckett turned to address the higher ranking officer, "Sidney is over 18 but Alexis isn't. I am being very careful of regulations, sir."

The teenage boy did a double take at the use of "sir." He raked his eyes up and down the black woman wearing a pants suit wondering if she really was a 'sir,' wanted to become a 'sir,' or used to be a 'sir.' Aloud he offered to Alexis, "I thought high school was messed up." Everyone else tried to maintain their composure.

Gates stuttered out, "Very well" before she turned and swiftly exited the room.

Castle and Alexis 'fed the birds' and Beckett rewarded Sidney with an offer of a soda. Then they got down to business.

An hour later Beckett handed Sid's phone back after Ryan copied the video images on it. They shook hands again and the younger generation left as Sid shared one final inappropriate observation, "Your dad's girlfriend is a kick-ass, hot cop!"

Alexis shot a worried look back as they waited for the elevator doors to open. "Yeah, just remember the kick-ass and cop part."

Beckett was too busy portioning out the gold mine of information. They got the young man's name and more. Ryan went to the underground web site and started sifting through the information. Esposito was busy following up on the rumor of an endorsement offer from a climbing store.

The lead detective decided to make peace with her captain and went in her office to brief her. "If forensics reveals that the wire was cut I've got motive. There are 2 groups that do the 'buildering' in this area. At first it was a friendly competition to one-up each other, but it became a rivalry between the rich kids who have the special shoes, gym memberships and frequent flyer miles to real rocks and the urban youth who thrive on guts and raw energy. There is some grumbling about sabotaging this feat as a payback for some cooking oil that mysteriously appeared on the side of another building where a climber took a tumble."

The captain nodded her approval at the results of the day. "Detective, I can't stress enough the importance of perception."

Beckett tried to anticipate where the dialog was headed. "Yes sir. Even though it looks like an accident we are giving it a thorough investigation. If this is about the other case we have open, we've got uniforms keeping an eye out for Leo Thorn in his neighborhood and are hoping for a call from a bartender in a pub he's been to in the past."

"Yes, detective, I approve and would certainly let you know if I didn't. I'm speaking of positive portrayals of the NYPD in ways not associated with fictional characters of loose moral standards." She held up her hands as if to surrender to the preordained argument about Castle and Nikki Heat. "I'm talking about socializing with important people and taking every opportunity to bemoan the deplorable pay scale for NYPD officers. It makes them easy targets for corruption and our best people are constantly being recruited away from the ranks."

_What the hell?_ "I have no current plans to leave NYPD, sir."

"I got a call from the Governor's protocol officer who gave me the courtesy of asking if you would be allowed time off to attend the annual gala this Friday."

_Crap. Now Gates got to pass judgment on her personal life? And based on the little speech she just got, she was being sent with an agenda_. "I have not formally been asked to attend the Governor's ball. I heard a rumor that Castle was getting invited, so perhaps you can ask him if you wish to attend."

Watching her choke at the idea was worth it. Suddenly Beckett decided to twist this around a little.

"Detective Beckett, don't play games with me. It is expected that he'll ask you."

"Sir, I don't play games. Whether or not Mr. Castle asks me should be no one's business. I've been careful to maintain the perception of a work partnership with him. Now I'm getting the feeling that exploiting a closer relationship with him and the influential people in his circle would be something you approve of?"

Gates was floundering. All she wanted was to have the detective look good and by extension, the 12th precinct, its captain, and all of NYPD. If a little politicking could be managed, well, so much the better. Now she landed in a very unorthodox intrusion into a subordinate's personal life. "Ahh, all I wanted to say was that if you wanted off Friday from noon on it would be no problem."

"Thanks. _If_ it is needed I'll be sure Detectives Ryan and Esposito are covering."

"Actually I shouldn't be granting special considerations. Your entire team can plan to be off from noon Friday and all weekend since you got called in this weekend. And I know you were all up before dawn so try to quit on time tonight." She gave a brief wave dismissing Beckett.

The detective barely kept from laughing as she shared the news with the rest of the team. "The captain encouraged us to quit on time tonight if you boys won't be too lost with a full evening off." She'd keep the weekend news until tomorrow.

"Two open cases and we still get to put in normal hours? What did you do to her?" the muscular detective had no better plans than spend the evening working out.

Castle offered his theory, "My partner can leap tall buildings in a single bound. The iron maiden doesn't stand a chance." He saw Beckett smirk. He loved that she was openly smiling more. His heart whispered that he was contributing by poking at her walls, but he didn't want to get overly confident. The guys moved away to work harder knowing they had a limited window of time to accomplish what they wanted before they felt good about leaving.

"Do you want to take off now, Castle? You can go spend a full evening with Alexis and I can call if anything breaks with the case." She carefully displayed a very neutral demeanor.

Instead of an answer, he opened a text on his phone and handed it over. The text message read, "Ask Det B to dinner. I'll cook." The father wasn't sure if his child was trying to make amends for the girlfriend comment, or having second thoughts about the snark towards Gates, but he was happy to play along. He saw the usual indecision, but it was longer than in the past. He waited for the polite refusal.

She needed to discuss the gala away from the precinct and she wanted to show some gratitude for his sensitivity. "Ask her what I can bring for desert."

_Just you, he thought to himself._

A few hours later Ryan spared a glance as the couple left together. No holding her jacket as she slipped into it; no freedom for the strand of dark wavy hair trapped in her scarf, and no innocent touch to the small of her back. Just two people together so long they were as one. Kevin ached for the day he and Jenny were that in sync. The day their relationship stopped grasping at inconsequential gestures knowing their love was so strong it could defy death.


	4. What a Ball

Friday

"So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!"

* * *

><p>Déjà vu. Just like the first formal event all those years ago the dress arrived. It was just as beautiful as the red one but much less of a surprise since she picked it out and it was altered to fit her perfectly. Just like before, the limo was waiting out front. Just like their first gala she rode to Castle's loft to honor Martha's plea that they leave from there. She had no fears that jewelry was going to be offered since this neckline covered her left shoulder and kept the other bare. A necklace would have been awkward. He had already seen to the bauble that adorned her wrist and sent it with the dress so she could agonize privately over whether or not to accept and wear the piece.<p>

It was a tint of yellow and white gold that allowed it to blend into her skin tone. The 4 inch long sculptured piece of wearable art was vaguely reminiscent of a tribal design but it had a modern purpose. It doubled as a watch even as its function was over shadowed by the diamonds that stood for numbers. Detailed scrollwork was etched into the precious metal keeping it from being too shiny. The seductive lines mimicked the flow and allure of her dress.

The doorman must have alert Castle of her arrival because the door opened before she could knock. His face went slack and the breath whooshed out of his body. The rich black silk hugged her curves and contrasted with the porcelain skin. He gulped in air and his eyes became slaves that followed a single line of black beading that revealed itself from around that delicious throat, cascaded over the hallow of her collarbone crossing the top swell of her breast and ducking under the bare arm where the teasing line promised to touch the curve of her backside before emphasizing the length of those long legs that peaked through the slit of the dress. Only after his traitorous eyes finished the journey was he able to stutter out a verbal gasp, "You're stunning… I know you're a beautiful woman but to see you like this takes my breath away." He couldn't mask his love at the moment no matter how uncomfortable it might make her feel.

By sheer will power he regained control of himself and beckoned her further inside. The faint blush his reaction invoked was fading. He saw her struggling with words and she instead chose a subtle action to express her thoughts. She moved intimately close and let the nervous energy burn off as her hands roamed his chest and arms. "Thank you, Rick, for everything. The dress, the bracelet…"

He interrupted knowing she would get flustered speaking about it. "Hey, it's just a watch. You couldn't wear your father's timepiece and this is a pale imitation. There is nothing more annoying than checking the time out of habit only to realize you don't have a watch on." Her grimace indicated she wasn't going to let it go that easily. "Please, Kate, make an exception. I respect your limits with birthdays and Christmas. It means a lot to me that you're wearing it because our time together is even more precious these days."

How is a girl supposed to think rationally when she is so damn adored and cherished? Her feelings were checked by the grand dame entering the scene. "Oh, Katherine you look exquisite. Richard, get your paws off that dress."

"Fine, mother, I'll limit myself to Ms. Beckett's bare skin." He smirked hoping his sophomoric humor helped her feel more normal and less like the goddess she appeared.

Beckett turned to face Martha and noticed her arms laden. She held a full length mink coat in one hand and a black cape in the other. "It is too cold to go without. I realize fur is controversial these days so I assure you the cape is of the softest and thickest cashmere and forestalls any comparison to superhero clothing."

So mothering Kate on a cold night was the reason she insisted on their departure from the loft. Kate smiled at her, "Really, Martha, I'll be fine."

"Nonsense! At the very least take this black Japanese silk wrap with the hand-stitched embrodery to keep your shoulders warm and limit the bare skin tempting the rogue in the back of the limousine with you." She picked up the garment and brought it over. The two women exchanged looks and smiled together.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to send it back after Rick sees me to my door."

"Again with the nonsense! I was expecting you to make use of the guest room so I can have a full accounting while the details are fresh in your mind tomorrow at lunch. I am even pushy enough to tell you I've anticipated your needs and shopped ahead. You are much too nice to let me go to such trouble for no good reason, so say 'yes' with the good grace and forgive my selfish meddling."

"Wow. Now I know where Castle gets his obstinate streak!" She shook her head but acquiesced with true grace. "Thank you, but since you both have used up your quota of pushing me around, I am going to insist we leave." Martha gave her an air kiss and Rick complied with a touch to her arm, mindful of his directive to keep his hands off her dress.

In the elevator he made no secret of his admiration as he faced her instead of forward. He slowly slipped the slinky wrap from her grasp and placed it around her shoulders skimming his fingers over any bare skin within his reach before covering her. He thought she might swat his hands but she was full of surprises lately. She closed her eyes and barely hid her enjoyment.

"No one else tonight, Rick." It almost sounded like she didn't mean to say it aloud. "I don't want your playboy reputation to come back and I don't want to be in anyone else's arms tonight."

She opened the green orbs to watch his reaction. His blue eyes darkened and he forced his attention away from her lips. "Oh Kate, someday I hope you'll want me for longer periods of time, but I'll settle for the evening until I get to be with you always." The lift settled on the ground floor and the doors opened to the lobby.

They stepped out in practiced unison and entered the black limo that took them to the gala. Mindful that they weren't alone, Castle checked his emotions. He gestured to the mini bar. "Can I get you anything, detective?"

She shook her head and stared forward. Castle pointed to the switch for the privacy panel and offered to put it up but she made it clear she didn't want that. They rode in companionable silence and Beckett stayed deep in thought. Despite her earlier words, both kept their hands to themselves.

After 30 minutes she bluntly asked the driver, "Are we being followed?" He checked his mirrors much more than necessary.

Both the men were surprised. Castle had no idea why she asked and the driver had no clue she was that good. "Yes, but before your instincts kick in, I am agent Drum with Homeland Security. I am armed but feel there is no immanent danger. My assignment tonight, besides seeing you safely to the event, was to tell you your briefing will be at 10:15 in the temporary security operations room in the SW corner of the building. Give the agent guarding the hallway the password 'Neverland' and you will be permitted access."

The detective stayed focused on the immediate situation even though she filed the rest of the information away. "Why don't you feel the tail is an imminent threat?"

"Because I was told to expect it. I don't have any more information than that to share with you."

They stayed quiet the rest of the trip. Castle frowned unaware of his expression until her finger caressed a reassuring touch on the back of his hand. They were a team. Partners. Even is he was caught unaware, she wasn't. He held her hand and relaxed.

Agent Drum broke through the silence. "We are almost there. I can wait in the normal line to pull up to the red carpet, or there is a side entrance for guests with security that is much faster. Which would you prefer Detective?"

"You've been briefed. Which do you think I want?" She teased him like he was an old colleague of hers.

"Right. Side entrance. That will help make up for this bit of news. I was instructed to remind you that your old friend the governor is expecting to meet you both in the receiving line. Last I heard that line was longer then a ride at Coney Island on a hot summer day."

Beckett smacked Castle. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You're the one with the connections, so this is your fault. I should make you trade shoes with me."

"Ah, I know I said I'd do anything for you, but wearing woman's shoes just makes me cringe. Thankfully I know your shoe size is too small for me." Agent Drum snickered at him and Beckett was annoyed more than amused. "How do you have any idea what my shoe size is?"

Instead of the creepy answer she was expecting he spouted inconsequential knowledge. "A person's foot is the same length as their forearm." Then he got inappropriate and juvenile. "Of course that contradicts the myth that a man's shoe size indicates the length of… Apples, apples, apples!"

Her ear twist was a little harder than necessary and he pouted.

The petulant child act lasted until they breezed through a perfunctory screening and had to mingle with the crush of guests. The public persona of Richard Castle charmed everyone they encountered. Rich and famous mingled with power brokers from business and politics. They met congressmen and hordes of state officials.

Rick and Kate both wondered if some random hand they shook was a dragon hidden inside a tuxedo. Both wondered how so many secrets stayed hidden when many guilty consciousnesses betrayed the carrier upon unexpectedly meeting a detective after starting to drink much earlier in the day. They also wondered what the governor would say to them. After meandering through the reception line for the last 45 minutes at least one mystery was about to be solved.

The protocol staffer formally announced them. An assistant leaned in to whisper a reminder, but the Governor waived him off. "I know exactly who these two are. Many people _claim to be a friend_, but truest test is through _actions _instead of words. I am damn lucky to have friends like you. All of New York is_ damn lucky _to have you." He shook his head unable to say more, but hoped his thanks was small compensation for the accolades that should have been heaped on them if it all weren't classified top secret.

Beckett loosed a small sigh of relief and mutely nodded but Castle grinned from ear to ear relieved to be heralded instead of chastised for his presumptuous bluff. They moved into the grand ballroom and took a minute to get their bearings. The woman, who you would expect to focus on the gowns, jewels, and glamour of the evening, was merely noting the number of couples, security, layout of the room and other tactical details out of habit. The man filed away details of character, ambiance, sounds and smells.

Ever the gentleman, Castle guided his partner over to a quiet table so she could get off her feet and let them talk privately for a few minutes. He signaled a waiter who was circulating with wine and procured 2 glasses of liquid to counter the results of too much polite conversation.

Beckett nodded distractedly at his consideration and checked to see how much time they had before their briefing. His smile registered and she realized it was because she was using the watch he gave her. Suddenly she stopped being an officer of the law and melted briefly into a woman who was thoroughly loved.

"Have I told you how handsome you are tonight, Mr. Castle?" He looked delicious in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, but she'd seen it before. What called to her was the shirt with the faint silver pinstripes that covered broad shoulders and hid the chest her hands wanted to explore again.

"Knowing that tidbit makes me bolder in my plans to stick ridiculous close to you. I am dying to ask you to dance whenever you'll do me the honor." He wanted them to be seen as a couple tonight. They were too inconsequential in this gathering to be monitored by the press yet far enough away from real life to let inhibitions slip a little.

She reached out her hand in answer and dished out the eye sex, "Take me now, Rick."

He stifled a growl as he rose and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Even after maneuvering through the masses to the crowded dance floor his eyes were still dark with want. He pulled her close and drank in the proximity. Her signature scent was faint and she had an exotic perfume that he'd never smelled before. Her skin was enticing in the contrast of softness covering firm muscles. Their bodies moved together with polished ease. Her soft voice recalled him from the magic of the moment.

"How do you do it? Everyone is staring at you. How do you get used to it?" He was going to deny that anyone here recognized or cared about him, but she was right; people were noticing them.

He gave his answer in a breathy whisper to her ear, "If anyone is looking at me it is only to wonder how such a beautiful woman came to be in in my arms." He felt her laugh. He meant it sincerely but she laughed at his cheesy sentiments. He pulled back to enjoy her merriment on her face.

"It's a crime to look this good together and dance this well as a couple." He wanted to keep the silly comments flowing if it meant her smile stayed in place.

"Rick, behave yourself. There is more to this evening than dancing." She tried to remind him that they were summoned here because a national security concern. This wasn't a date no matter how much she was enjoying being in his arms, moving her body in time with his, trusting their history.

"I'm looking forward to all the revelations the night has yet to share." He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at the multitude of ways she could take it. Truthfully he was excited to see what all the cloak and dagger was about.

They went back to dancing and Rick stayed tuned in to their surroundings. A few men around the perimeter of the dance floor were circling for partners and Rick gladly gave off all the signs that this one was off limits.

She gave his hand a double squeeze and he knew instantly what she wanted. Casually he worked them towards the SW corner of the ballroom and led her from the dance floor during a break in the music.

"Let's find someplace more private," he leered as he headed towards the nearest hallway.

Beckett had little choice but to play along so she leaned into him and snaked an arm under his suit jacket. Just as a beefy agent was getting ready to stop them Beckett teased Castle, "Come on, Peter Pan, let's see if we can find Never Neverland." the agent pretended to be distracted by his phone allowing them to pass before he resumed his intimidating pose.


	5. Map of Neverland

The directions to Neverland- "Second star to the right, and straight on till morning."

* * *

><p>The ethereal glow of the large ballroom of glamorous people, smell of flowers, and orchestrated melodies gave way to small rooms with humming communication equipment, bright lights with rows of computer screens and the smell of mediocre coffee brewing in large quantities. Beckett felt at home here and Castle was excited to peek behind the curtain in the emerald city. It was a melting pot of security forces. He saw Secret Service, State Police, Homeland Security and a few from the military in dress uniforms.<p>

Agent Mark Fallon beckoned to them from one of many doorways. He set the tone when posted a guard outside the room and closed the door. While he didn't greet them as old friends, he did tease Castle, "Was your _old friend _the governor happy to see you?"

Beckett added to the fiction even as she teased Fallon, "I fear Rick is now an unstoppable child with his powerful guardians, money for toys, and unquenchable need for adventures. The consequences are on you." A simple handshake belied the weighted history among them.

Agent Bigtree was relaxed but cagey, "Mr. Castle do me the honor of introducing me to the heroine."

Beckett picked up on the vibe and spoke before her partner could, "Unless you are referring to my fictional counterpart, Mr. Castle is the one I credit with saving the day. I'm Detective Kate Beckett but you already know that. I already know your name because he's excellent at character description. Let's get down to business. What does Homeland Security want with a soon to be paroled inmate and why were we followed here?"

Fallon shot a look like '_I told you so_' at his boss and sat with his arms folded. Bigtree resumed control of the conversation. "Please confirm or correct the following information: Your maternal grandparents left Russia just prior to WWII because of religious persecution. From them you learned to speak the language fluently. You spent a semester in Kiev and studied Russian language and literature in college. On occasion you go to 'little Odessa' and hang out. You seem to enjoy Russian food. Your preference in vodka is imported from Russia." He said it with an undertone and nudged a red file that had her name on it. He studied her reaction.

She gave him no reaction. Castle reacted vehemently, "How dare you insinuate that Detective Beckett is anything but a loyal American and dedicated officer of the law! I don't like the games you people play. First my mother and now Beck…"

"Correct." She interrupted Castle and calmly confirmed the information. "In a file that thick there are bound to be some inaccuracies, but everything I've heard so far is correct."

Castle's head swiveled from Beckett back to Fallon and then to Bigtree. This time it was Agent Fallon who nudged a file and spoke. "Your Gage Harding wants to stay in jail and thinks you will help him do so. Why is that?"

"Incorrect. The inmate knows I supported his release during his last parole review. It is a logical assumption on his part I would do so again. He does not assume I will help him. He's not one of 'my' boys."

The agents shared a look. The partners shared a look. Beckett wordlessly commanded Castle to keep quiet and Bigtee nodded confirmation about Beckett's character and motioned for Fallon to continue.

"Why does Gage Lucas Harding want to stay in jail?" Fallon asked.

Beckett answered, "You and I both know why."

"I don't know why," Castle whined.

Bigtree laughed and the charade was cast aside, "You are a man no file can adequately describe. Hopefully Detective Beckett will give the briefing so we can make sure all of our information coincides."

She complied, "Gage 'the Cage' Lucas Harding wants to stay in jail because his sister is getting large cash payments at the end of every month. 1 of the 4 inmates in the cell is a young man of slight build with Russian heritage. Dmitry Starkey landed in in jail on vehicular homicide because he hit a man while intoxicated - on vodka. 2 of the men in the cell are hardened criminals who are suspected of raping other inmates. The last convict in the cell is there because he killed a man who abused his sister. Harding is a Special Forces veteran and has a reputation not to be challenged. While members of the Russian mafia may be able to protect this youngster out in the yard, a cellmate is indispensable the rest of the time. It is a reasonable assumption the money for the sister comes from the Russian mob. Harding wants those payments to continue. He needs to avoid being paroled and he needs to avoid my support. Anything to confirm or correct?" She parroted the words back at the agent in charge.

"Well done, detective."

Beckett's patience was wearing thin. "Ready to stop evaluating me and tell me my role in this drama?"

"You are going to be our go-between and make Harding an offer. In exchange for taking care of the parole problem he is going to be a confidential informant for any information the kid shares."

"Waste. Of. Time." Castle's tone was matter-of-fact. He saw immediately that Beckett agreed. He was fairly certain Fallon did too. "Our comic hero 'The Cage' has a code of conduct. You can't expect this guy to betray someone and protect them at the same time. It is more likely that you'll end up alerting the kid of some very high level interest. There goes your insider access."

"Then it's settled. We'll ensure the convict gets paroled and put our own guy in."

A plan was forming in Castle's mind. He antagonized Bigtree with verbal pokes. "Still a waste of time. The new guy will have no rapport with the almost fairy. These two aren't buddies; it is a simple financial arrangement. Besides, cute little Dmitry is out of the loop so you're wasting your time and resources."

Bigtree was frustrated. The big picture was crucial and they weren't any closer to getting it.

Fallon took a calculated risk and tapped the writer's special gift. "It's not current events but a little bit of history that we want. How would you advise we do this?" Bigtree shot his subordinate a warning look, but was desperate enough to listen. The dossier said Richard Castle earned the right to be heard.

"Simple, go fish." Beckett gave him an eye roll knowing he was eating this up. "The hook is dangling; the clock is ticking, and let's see if we get the crocodile or small fry. Turn Beckett loose and make the Russians come to her to get what they want."

Bigtree started to shake his head 'no' so Castle hurried on. "Beckett is a skilled interrogator. Let her talk to the kid directly or let her talk to whatever big shot is protecting the kid. That's the delicate part of this investigation. It is really something about Mr. Big that you want but you can't get to him. Either way, your chances are better with Beckett."

Fallon clearly remembered betting against them and being wrong. "Why would the mafia or the kid consider talking to a cop?"

Castle was on a roll. "Easy, they want something and she is standing in their way. In Russian culture everyone has a price and authority is **not** equated with moral high ground. Besides, she's one of them. She's Russian." He stopped quickly and looked at his partner, suddenly worried she would take offense at the implied slight of character.

Something was bothering her but it wasn't what Castle implied about her heritage. She had a mask in place and was content to watch the interplay of Fallon and Bigtree.

"Damn, Fallon, you were right about these two. He thinks outside the box and she doesn't back down from a fight." Bigtree turned to the detective. "Your partner just offered to dangle a hook with you as the bait and see if the Russian mob wants to bite. Even if he doesn't realize how dangerous it is, I do, even if I could give you some backup, which I can't."

She watched Castle cringe at the portrayal. He offered her up before he realized the consequences in real life. Again. He had a history of doing so with the jewel thief Powell, when he created Nikki, and he did it when he looked into Johanna's murder.

Right now she had an answer to give. "I know you won't brief us on what is going on, but it has to be really important for Agent Fallon and his supervisor to be here. You've gone to a lot of trouble to keep our meeting hidden. You can't sanction this so I'll save you the trouble. I am going to proceed on my own unless you order me not to. If I get any 'nibbles' to use Castle's imagery, I will let you know."

Fallon risked the ire of his superior again. "You've already got a nibble." He'd fought a battle with them; almost cost them their lives and he owed them.

"Yes, whoever followed us. Someone tried to tail me one night this week when I left the precinct but I shook them. It's become a habit to check since so many people want me dead. Anyway, back to your concerns. The people you're watching suddenly have me showing up in the surveillance footage. That's why you wanted to vet me tonight. Castle really threw you for a loop suggesting I work for you. How am I doing so far?" Her nonchalant recital stiffened the spines of the men.

Bigtree was not a field agent; he started as an analyist and now held significant authority. He didn't hide his reactions well, but he did evaluate people and situations very well. He had a file of aptitude tests and performance reports that said this woman was at the top one percentile. "Your talents are under utilized at NYPD. Come work for us and double your income. I'll make it official immediately."

Castle squirmed in his seat like a kid being restrained at Christmas. His hope leaped even higher when he saw Beckett honestly consider the offer. It would be a stronger platform from which to go after the dragon.

She only kept them waiting a few more seconds, "Your profile about me in that folder should tell you that I am fiercely loyal. There is no way I will leave the NYPD at present."

She turned to her partner even as she continued to speak to Bigtree, "However I am going to strongly recommend that Castle take you up on the offer." All the men drew in a surprised breath but Beckett continued while she had them stunned into silence. "You pointed out that you can't offer me backup. I have a partner, but he could benefit from some informal training. You give Castle a few extra skills, provide him with a document of indemnity for any actions that result from this investigation, and I'll gladly take up this battle."

Beckett turned back to the senior agent. She knew the offer wasn't directed towards Castle, but she was going to dig in her heels.

Fallon was an unexpected ally. "Someone needs to teach him to sit and stay on command. And having a civilian does get around certain legal issues…"

Everyone stopped and stared at Bigtree. Much to everyone's surprise, including his own, he was considering it. His indecision dragged on for a few very long minutes and Castle wisely stayed quiet. Finally the verdict was in, "This is important enough to risk a wildcard. What good is power if you don't use it when it counts? Mr. Castle, you're going to be asked to report to 1 Police Plaza on Monday. We've got a liaison officer by the name of Thompson who will concoct a cover story about sensitivity training and sexual harassment videos that you need to endure before being allowed back with the NYPD. He'll give you further instructions."

"I won't let you down. I'll be the best damn student. I've already got spidey sense and this will only bring out my other latent superpowers." A fist pumped backed up his gleeful tone.

"Don't make me regret this before I sign the paperwork," the man in charge admonished.

Castle bit his lip to keep from saying another word. Mark Fallon looked at Kate Beckett. "You may wish you'd considered what you've just agreed to do." He didn't quite know how to put it so he just rambled, "In order to be your backup he has to be there… with you… after hours… You'll have to act like a couple…."

She really hadn't thought about that part. Oh, they'd have to be _together. This might be a safe way to have one foot out and still test the waters. See if the water boiled over or just what bubbled up. If their undercover kiss was any indication… the fire department might get regular calls to hose them down…too much heat… spontaneous combustion…_

Her face burned with a flush and Castle squeaked with unparallel delight. "I get to be a secret agent and get a girlfriend? Best. Night. Ever." He covered his ears so she couldn't hurt him but that left the nose vulnerable. She went for it before he curled away from her.

"Oh my god, what have I agreed to?" Nigel Bigtree got up and left the room, shaking his head, but hiding a smile.

Fallon also hid a smile. "Good to see you both again, but you've been absent from the dance floor long enough. Go practice acting like a couple." He picked up all the folders and left the room.

Castle stood and held out his hand, "Care to dance, Kate?" She'd need time and talking about this was not their style.

She accepted his hand and much more, "Only with you, Rick."


	6. Man Card

"Sir, you are both ungallant and deficient!" -Wendy in Peter Pan

* * *

><p>Castle presented the coffee to her with a grand flourish. "Top of the morning to you, detective. I trust this wonderful day finds you happy and healthy. Sleep well last night? Have any dreams you want to share with me? About me? Have a fantastic weekend?"<p>

He was too close to her. His eyes roamed over her body taking in every detail. His dialogue was about to get invasive. She knew him too well.

"Fine. Now let me get back to work." They spent a wonderful Sunday together and he was completely respectful of boundaries. Now that they were around other people he was pushing it. They may need to _act_ like a couple after hours, but this was her place of employment. Of all the places she needed him to behave this was the one that mattered.

Instead of taking his seat he hovered over her, yes physically leaned over her, and gave a breathy whisper in her ear, "Hey Beckett, do you know what today is?" He was loud enough for the boys to hear.

"The day I kill you for getting on my last nerve? Sit down before I make you." Privately that may give her butterflies but at the precinct she started to get pissed. He deliberately pushed and she was getting ready to push back.

He deliberately ignored her. "Are we a little tense and grumpy? I give great massages. There is great truth to the folk wisdom about writer's hands. My fingers are very skilled and strong and they…"

"Castle!" He jumped at the snarl reverberating from the captain's office. "Get in here. Now."

Ryan and Esposito hunkered down. One pissed off woman was bad. Two pissed off women was twice as bad. Two pissed off women, both cops and bosses was a day in a special kind of hell. "Castle is so going to pay for this." Esposito grumbled.

He returned a few minutes later looking like a lost boy whose mother labeled him "slightly soiled." He pouted as he gave Beckett the news. "I'm being sent for 'Sensitivity Training.' I have to attend workshops on sexual harassment. You're the one abusing me all the time. They should make you go."

Beckett openly laughed. Belatedly she realized he had been setting the scene for Fallon's undercover training sessions and it played out perfectly. "Sorry Castle. You signed paperwork absolving the NYPD of anything that happens to you. I, on the other hand, am the poor woman forced to put up with you at the mayor's insistence. Go learn how to be sexually appropriate." Her eye sex was anything but appropriate.

"Dude, careful they don't take your man card."

"Yeah, you are a little metro sexual already."

He tore his gaze away from her and answered the boys, "Fine Esposito, no more video game nights while you're single and desperate. And 'Honey Milk,' enough said." Castle gave a final leer to Beckett and trailed his fingers over her shoulders and down an arm as he departed. _What the hell, he might as well enjoy the inappropriate display since he'd never get another opportunity like this again._ He grabbed his coat never even having sat in his chair before he was kicked out.

Thunk, whap, and smack were the sounds as the stress ball, pen, and rubber band shot him in the back.

Those where the kindest blows he endured for the rest of the day.

Castle came knocking on Beckett's door that evening. She let him in and stifled the witticism that would normally flow. "You look beat. Or should I say 'beaten?' Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes and I made plenty."

His heaviness scared her as much as his silence. "Oh, you probably have to get home to be with Alexis." She bit her lip to stop her flow of wordy concerns and waited him out.

"Food would be highly appreciated. I called Alexis and told her I would be home late and she was out anyway. I have information to share, but give me a few minutes." He shuffled around and sat down with a real groan.

Beckett got the vodka out of the freezer and poured them each a shot. They gave each other a sultry salute and downed the burning clear liquid. Then the pain killers in pill form appeared in front of Castle with a glass of water. Gratefully he took 2 capsules. Finally she sliced and buttered bread for some much needed carbs and nudged it his way.

"Don't spoil me. I may become an addict for your attention." He was too tired for anything more so he simply asked, "How was your day?"

"Dead dishwasher in a diner." She tried to distract him from the fatigues of his day.

"God, the alliterations are almost too much." The twinkle in his eyes thanked her. "Dish the dirt on the dastardy deed."

"The manager went in to open up and found the kid. They didn't want to admit it, but he is an illegal immigrant. He came in at night and stayed late to finish up the pots and pans. They looked the other way so he slept on the couch in the break room. Good kid, never stole anything, got along well with everyone. The late crew left together like normal. The alarm showed no one entered or exited. He was dead this morning."

The writer's mind never stopped, "He accidentally ingested a slow acting poison meant for a restaurant patron. No, CO2 was fed in through the ventilation system because he's really an undercover agent. Wait, he was just a test subject for a venomous snake trained to crawl in through the water pipes, bite him and hide until retrieved." It was proof he was feeling better now that he was around Beckett.

No eye roll. "I'll keep all those theories in mind. So tell me about Neverland, Mr. Darling."

"You called me 'darling?' I must be dreaming." He devoured her with a look. He was thankful for all those times he bantered her into a better mood because the repayment was simply perfect.

"You must really need the sleep. _Mr_. Darling is the father in Peter Pan." Of course he knew that and willfully misinterpreted what she said. He complied with her request by emptying his pockets.

She grew more alarmed with every item.

"Indemnity paperwork and my permit. Our burner phones. Your set of keys to the loft. My new gun."

"Castle." She froze with that deer in the headlights look.

"I promise not to shoot you." Making her fall back into cop mode was better than pretend girlfriend who just got keys. "The feds quietly and quickly approved my Concealed Carry Weapon Permit. They also told me if I fire my gun they'll pull the permit so it is a 'use it and lose it' deal. They were impressed with my shooting skills and I raved about what a great instructor you are."

She still had that look. "Don't joke about this, mister. If you ever have to pull out your firearm I'm not doing my job and we need to reevaluate things."

He loved it when she got all riled up and protective on him. "Beckett, I volunteered to put you between the mob and something they want. I'm getting training because you need backup and I've had to improvise how I do that. I dabbled in it when I wrote the Storm novels but it is long overdue that I get serious about it. I spent the rest of the day learning fatal blows and how to kill with as few moves as possible. Close quarter combat starts tomorrow."

"Oh, Castle, what have I gotten you into?" She was openly regretting this and starting to back away. The physical distance echoed the emotional withdraw happening before their very eyes.

Castle needed to snap her out of it quickly. He let loose all those deep emotions she didn't want to see on his face. The invisible tug pulled him forward and invaded her personal space. He wrapped an arm around her waist while the other one stroked her arm. He chose a low throaty rumble to deliver the message. "Kate, I want this. Let me be the kind of man you deserve as a partner. Keep your walls just don't push me away."

She wasn't struggling against him. It was what she was making him become. She struggled with the implications. She liked her boyish partner who exalted her badass qualities. She liked protecting him. Was all that going to change now? Would he ever choose 'the sword' first and use his 'rapier arsenal of wit' as a last resort? Why did things have to change, but was it for the worse? She struggled with her thoughts even as she forced herself to stop being stiff in his in his embrace.

They stood together and some tension drained way. She leaned into him, on him. The rest of the tension morphed into a familiar unresolved urge to connect and affirm their place in each other's lives. Spending an evening dancing together brought a sizzle to their proximity. He held her tighter. She nuzzled his neck and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. He breathed in the scent of her and ran a hand through the hair cascading down her back…

The timer buzzed. Beckett jumped back from him and turned to take the casserole out of the oven. Castle helped himself to a glass of wine and carried the plates over to the table. She followed with the hot dish. "It smells delicious. Thank you for feeding me." He evaluated her demeanor and decided to keep pushing.

"Don't thank me until you taste it. It's vegetable lasagna. I am trying to pay more attention to my nutrition and it helps make up for burgers at Remy's. Not that I want to stop going to Remy's, I just meant I am trying to be healthy." She bit her lip and showed a little vulnerability about their special routines.

"I get it and Alexis will approve. She chastised me recently for my poor eating habits."

"She'd hate me if she knew about all this." A glance at _his _gun said it all.

"No, she'd approve that I am finally acquiring more skills that could prove useful considering the way I choose to spend my days. I could have paid for this training and pursued it on my own and never did. That was reckless of me. I am finally learning to protect myself…" _And the ones I love_, but that part was said only to himself. He prayed she never found out about the deal to keep her from investigating Johanna's enemies.

Kate served Rick and they both started eating. He attacked the second bite with undisguised eagerness. "This is really good." Several more bites followed before he stopped being a hungry little boy and sheepishly paused to savor his hostess. "Forgive my manners. This is delicious and I'm ravenous. I know you can read my surprise but it's because I've eaten a lot of gourmet meals and find this has a fabulous blend of flavors."

Gone was the hard detective and in her place sat a satisfied woman who just impressed a man. "Take some home if you think Alexis would like it."

"She'd love it to the point of pestering you for the recipe."

"It's complicated."

"That doesn't mean it isn't worth it." They locked eyes. "I told Alexis them that we are secretly giving 'us' a trial run for a few weeks. After the case is over I can set her straight." Secretly he hoped they would be a real couple by then, but he had to separate fantasy and fiction.

That deer in the headlights look was still there. Because Kate did not ask about Alexis' reaction, he moved the conversation along. "I had a cultural briefing today. Alexis is in no danger because of any of this. The Russian mafia has a particularly strong code of conduct and kids are off limits."

"Couldn't they misconstrue me going after Dmitry as a reason for quid pro quo?" Kate wasn't eating much.

"No, you are simply seeking compensation for a service rendered." After a few more bites he casually added, "The after hours arrangements are up to you. The guest room is yours whenever you want. The key ring includes building, apartment, car and gun vault keys."

"Gun vault? Have you been holding out on me, Rick? Got a stash of illegal weapons and silver bullets in case vampires attack?" She was desperate to stop this evolution.

He explained further. "I have some semi automatics and assault rifles left from Derrick Storm's career. The gun vault is in the back of the walk in closet in the master suite. I'll show it to you next time you're over." He was serious about opening up his life to her and didn't want to hide it behind jokes or pretend it was just for role playing. He studied her reaction.

She got up and moved away from the table, from him. While he wasn't surprised, Rick was disappointed. He finished his food (it really was too good to pass up) and let her have some time. A moment later he heard her return. A red key was placed by his plate and he looked up in surprise. Was this what he thought it was? He kept a casual tone, "Red?"

"Red hot equals heat. A tribute to Nikki." Beckett felt the need for bigger teases these days.

Part of him thought Kate hated his creation. Nikki was kinda slutty and the fiction did make real life difficult in many ways. Then there were little moments like this that made him wonder if maybe the opposite wasn't true. Both were probably true on any given day. "After all these years you are still a mystery to me."

She knew. "Do you want desert?" _Oh! That was the wrong wording to counterbalance this momentous exchange. _"Please don't answer that. Would you like some ice cream? I've got a little Rocky Road." Her voice tinged with sexual tension, then humor.

"No _ice cream _for desert tonight." In the privacy of her home he was going to allow his desires to be known. His desires went far beyond sex.

"No sugar rush? You used a lot of energy today."

He rose to carry their plates back to the sink and explained, "I wouldn't mind burning off a few extra pounds." The way the other men looked at her on the dance floor at the gala made him feel a little vulnerable for the first time in his life. This woman could have her pick of men. Her last relationship was a handsome cardiac surgeon who rode a Harley. And he was tall. That meant he had big _footsteps _to fill. He stayed busy with the cleanup at the sink and his private thoughts.

She made up a container to send home for Alexis and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. It was her move so she stood behind him as he pretended to focus only on the dishes. She made this awkward and it shouldn't be so forced between them. She started massaging his neck and shoulders. He groaned, not moaned. It was pure relief from sore and aching muscles. "Stop and come sit down."

He dried his hands and detoured instead of following her. He grabbed both burner phones. They needed to finish sharing information before they parted ways tonight. "We use these to report in and get updates if necessary. Usually Fallon will answer but regardless the contact name is 'Indiana.' Just in case things go wrong I put Esposito in as Curly and Ryan as Tootles. Of course you're Wendy and I'm Peter."

Her rumble of laughter interrupted his analogy of their life. "Really, Peter? You're never going to grow up, and I'm only going to see you once a year for 'spring cleaning' until I am too old for you? That's how our future is going to play out?"

He reacted so quickly he cupped her cheek and grabbed a hand before she blinked. "Don't ever think that, Kate. I'd tell you exactly how I want our future to play out but I don't think you want to hear that right now." He let his eyes say everything his heart wanted her to know.

After making her feel the waves of emotion wash over them, he reasserted the reprieve she asked for on the swings all those months ago. "Our first code word for this adventure was 'Neverland.' They picked the literary symbol, but I'd be happy to change it to something more 'us' if that would reassure you about my views of always."

She thought he would enjoy the quip about perpetual youth and his immortality. Instead she betrayed her own weakness and needs. "Too much fiction."

She reevaluated the man in front of her. She was used to seeing his brilliant mind. She loved the sneak peeks at the family man who doted on his child. Maybe she didn't enjoy seeing him affectionately mobbed by fans, but that was petty jealously. She also kept her discomfort at his vast wealth hidden. What she was quite unprepared for was the hints of real life Derrick Storm, her champion from the darkest hours of her life, manifesting before her.

"Too much fiction." she repeated with a saucy toss of the head that made the hair porn come alive_. Jamison Rook was in love with Nikki Heat. Derrick Storm wasn't._


	7. Poking the Bear

Author's Note: The Russian language is used during a conversation later in this chapter. Rather than taking up space with the foreign words few readers would understand, I only used English but put it in italics.

"Faint hearts never won fair lady." JM Barrie in Peter Pan

* * *

><p>Her day started Castle style. A currier arrived with her coffee. The note was classic<em>: "The gift of a hot steamy beverage that gets sucked into that voluptuous mouth is not sexual harassment. This is a blatant attempt to bribe an officer of the law. I'll never stop. You'll have to use handcuffs or spank me. (You aren't harassing me if I want it) My sensitivity training says you don't have to gentle with me, or am I missing the point of all of this? I would say burn this note so it can't be used against me in a court of law, but I don't want you to set off the fire alarms. Somehow it would still be my fault. RC"<em>

She loved his way with words. Hell, she loved so much about him it was getting harder to remember why she was pretending to forget. She picked up the coffee and ignored the faint blush that occurred as she drank the hot steamy liquid…"

Gates interrupted her. "Detective Beckett, are you still scheduled to testify in court tomorrow?"

"Yes. The prosecutor told me to report in the morning for prep and expect to be in court the rest of the day."

"I take court appearances very seriously because they reflect on the professionalism of the 12th precinct and everyone it in. I want you to take whatever time is necessary today to review case notes. Fortunately the writer isn't here to distract you and I want the other detectives to cover if needed."

Beckett frowned at her constant refusal to acknowledge Castle's contributions including his levity to keep them from burning out.

Gates was pissed because her team had 3 open cases: The burglar, Leo Thorn, who was the prime suspect in the murder of another ex-con was still being elusive. The urban climber was definitely murdered because CSI finally ruled the cable was deliberately cut, and the autopsy was still pending on the dead dishwasher.

By afternoon Lanie cleared one of the cases. The illegal immigrant died due to natural causes. The team was gladly wrapping up paperwork on that case when the phone on her desk rang, "Beckett."

"Don't say it's me. Pretend I am an anonymous caller with a tip." She'd know that voice anywhere.

"Ok. Who are you calling about?"

"Our murder suspect, Leo Thorn. I was bragging I can do detailed facial recall because of years of studying people for character inspiration. Anyway, to prove it I recreated his face using their software, and the system automatically puts it in a facial recognition program. It got a hit on his current whereabouts. He's out by the UN."

"He's been evading us for over a week. This is great." She scribbled down the address he gave her.

"Even when I'm not there I solve your cases for you! Show me how grateful you are by coming over when you get out of there tonight. If it's late use your keys." He hung up before she could respond.

They arrested Leo Thorn. Beckett got a confession, not that it was needed. It was early when they finished up the paperwork and closed the case. She called Castle because there was no way she was just going to show up at his loft. "Hey."

"Are you done for the day and have you eaten?"

"Done. Esposito sprang for pizza. I think he is tired of eating alone already." She maneuvered her car towards his home.

"Are you up for a road trip?" The tone screamed undercover mission to her.

"I'm on my way. Where are we going?"

"To the zoo to poke the bear."

Oh. After a hard day of chasing a suspect and interrogating a murderer she was going to spend the evening pissing off the Russian mob. Castle certainly did keep life interesting. "I'll be out front in 5."

"Meet me in the garage instead; I got you a spot to park."

She decided to ignore the first overbearing assumption and shoot down the second one. "Give me one good reason why I should let you drive."

"The Indian chief said I should. Bears can see red, so there are 2 good reasons," he teased trying to make it less of an affront to her independence and boundaries.

Right. Cultural awareness united with Fallon's directive. She had to be seen as Castle's woman. It wasn't enough for him to be her man, and definitely not enough to be her professional partner. As much as a modern society may despise it, an old time notion said that a Russian woman 'belonged' to a man. Otherwise Castle's presence at her side would be questioned. He'd be sent out to wait in the car and not be there as backup. Fallon's orders made sense. She chose not to think about any other implications. "Right, I need to go back to being arm candy."

"If you're candy then I want a sugar rush." Fun and light - that was their standard.

"Castle!"

"Rick," he corrected. "Most couples don't use last names because screaming more than one syllable in bed is too much if you're doing it right."

"My experience is that forming words of any length meant is wasn't as good as it could be." He gasped at her quick comeback. "But I can say, _Rrrrick_." She drew out the throaty R's into a purr. The woman was waiting for the playboy to make her squirm. She was still waiting when she pulled into the garage and ended the call.

He opened her car door and stared with some unrestrained lust as she unfolded those long legs and stood. He missed being with her today. She missed him, so she showed him. She pressed her body fully into him and wrapped an arm high and another low to secure him where she wanted him. He squeaked in surprise. She nuzzled her face close and let her restraint disappear. She pressed her mouth on his, and he responded immediately, open and pliant. They explored and shared and teased each other until they mutually eased back their desire.

She leaned away and Rick looked at the red lips that kissed him senseless. Bewilderment and ecstasy warred for dominance. She gave him a very sexy smile and announced, "See? If you're doing it right words fail you!" She backed away and waited for him to unlock the Ferrari.

"Feel free to prove me wrong like that anytime." He grinned as he opened the door for her. He pulled out and got their journey underway. She rested a hand on his thigh and smirked as it flinched under the warmth of her touch. "Kate, what am I missing?"

"Intimacy. We are missing intimacy. You had to remind me to call you by your first name. Certainly your cultural briefing touched on the dynamics of a relationship as seen by Russian men." She sighed because she was using words to try to convince herself this was necessary even as she pretended to explain it to him. "We need to look like we're inseparable. Our reality is that you are afraid to touch me because I'll smack you. We both know I get stiff every time you try something as simple as a hug. Consider this permission."

The wistful sigh and worried look from Castle was not the reaction either of them expected. Rick hastened to justify it. "I know I'll screw this up. I'll touch when I shouldn't, be distracted when I should be caressing you, cross a boundary I didn't see and my body will betray my good intentions." _This will be the death of me, of us, _he added to himself. He wanted her and it hurt to have to playact.

"Rick, our history has taught me we can survive anything. No pretending. You told Alexis the truth; this is a trial run. You know me well and I trust you completely." She switched from his thigh to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

The 'trial' part of the arrangement scared him. He didn't want whiplash from the change when things went backwards. Regardless he took in a deep cleansing breath and thanked his lucky stars for the woman beside him. Trusting his instincts he asked gleefully, "Want to her about my secret agent training?"

Instead of happily distracting her with the narrative of picking locks and picking pockets, he alarmed the law enforcement officer. But so did the fighting techniques and gun he now carried. He chatted and mistook her silence for discomfort with the physical connection. He pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss as he eased their conversation back to the task at hand.

"Bigtree won't tell me what bit of history this kid knows or why is godfather is under surveillance. He believes our passive information gathering might fill in a few blank pieces, and he'll be happy for any intel we can get."

She stayed quiet forming an interrogation plan. She was so focused when he parked the car that she startled when Castle ordered her to "stay." She automatically started to get pissed, and then he pointed to the car door. She sat dumbly while he walked around the car and opened the door for her and offered a hand as she exited. He gestured for her to lead the way, and she put on her badass, pissed off woman look and headed into the prison. Castle waited in the lobby.

In short order the inmate was brought in for her.

The kid looked concerned. Anything that was out of the ordinary was bad news while incarcerated. An angry looking woman, pacing, did nothing to calm his worries. She stopped mid stride and gave him a disgusted look. She questioned the guard with disbelief, "This little piss ant is Dmitry Starkey?"

When he nodded the confirmation, Beckett waved the CO off. She put her hands on her hips and remained standing, towering over the hunched figure of a boy. He may have been a 22 year old man, but his small frame and delicate features could only be described as a momma's boy.

"You're supposed to be a smart boy." His file said he was intelligent and doing well in university studies before his drunken mishap. "Do I look stupid to you?"

"Ah, no ma'am."

"Why are you trying to make me look like an idiot?"

"No ma'am. I would never…"

"Shut up. Don't tell me you aren't because you are. Now instead of being home with my man I've got to come all the way out here because some boy wonder wants to make me do his bidding." She slapped the table loudly and the kid jumped out of his skin. He was too confused to speak.

"Do you know how many men I've put in this place?"

His eyes got really wide as he glanced up at her. He shook his head 'no,' not risking speech.

The guard didn't tell him who she was. "You're going to insult me by pretending not to know who I am?"

Again he shook his head no, then yes, then shrank back not knowing if he was responding to the insult or identity part of the question.

She gave a low mean laugh at his expense. "I am the woman who decides if your knight protector goes free and lets you become fairy dust for the big bad men who need a cute little thing to pass the time." She swiped a finger over his shoulder as she circled him, stalking him like prey about to be devoured for fun. He recoiled at her touch.

"Instead of being straight with me, you make your cellmate tell me what to do. Now I gotta come up here and find out why a pretty little boy like you thinks I won't look like a damn idiot supporting parole one year and opposing it the next. You got something to say to me now?"

He looked up with tears threatening to spill. "Sorry?" He managed to mumble before he resumed his frozen fear.

The detective hated doing this to the kid, but now he was ripe for her questions. She sat down across from him. "You want to make this right?"

He nodded eagerly, but didn't risk looking up.

She demanded _in Russian_, "_Tell me your favorite restaurant_."

It made him look up in surprise and hope. He answered immediately in the same dialect, _"Batva and Borscht."_

"_Good." _She encouraged him. "_If I have dinner there tomorrow night, can I talk with someone about your situation?"_

"_Yes! Ivan will come!"_

"_Good," _she softened her tone. _"See how this should be done? See how wrong you were?" _He would agree to anything at this point. He nodded like the schoolboy he should be.

"_Tell me about your friend."_

"_Papa Zhuk is my godfather. He looks out for my mother and me since my father was killed."_

She wanted to connect not interrogate so she nodded sympathetically. "_Tragedy is no stranger to our people. My mother was killed._" She was relived Castle wasn't around to hear this. She wasn't above using her own tragedy to break through other walls. _"The memories are bittersweet."_

He saw the pain in her eyes and immediately felt kinship. "_I miss being able to go visit our special place. He used to take me to work with him. I climbed over the boxes and roller bladed through the aisles. Life was simple then."_

"_And then he died and you drank too much vodka to dull the pain." _This wasn't part of her plan, but she owed the kid something. "_A good Russian can hold their vodka. You must learn this."_

"_In here the counselors tell me I am an alcoholic and can never drink. How can I deny my heritage and never taste our 'water' again?"_

"_I'll share a secret with you. If you want to slow down the effects of the alcohol, eat cheese before you drink." _She whispered it like it was hidden knowledge that had been denied the boy by his elders.

He stared with wonder like it was the most important lesson he would ever learn. He nodded solemnly.

"_Now listen carefully. You have treated me badly but I have shown good faith in you. Tell your Ivan Zhuk he does not want to be rude and make me mad. Will you do that?"_

"_Yes Ma'am."_

She patted the boys hand and left the confused youngster behind. He watched her shapely figure depart and wasn't sure if he wanted her as a Russian sister or a lover, but either way he wanted her on his side.


	8. Obfuscation

**Obfuscation**

Wendy's assessment of Peter Pan: "Yes, he is rather cocky."

* * *

><p>Alexis was preparing her breakfast when the muse, sniper's target, and love of her father's life all rolled into one person descended the stairs from the guest room. They eyed each other tentatively. The trained detective did a quick read and took the lead. "Thank you, Alexis."<p>

A red eyebrow raised in a quizzical fashion.

The cop went over to the freshly brewed coffee and poured herself a large mug and raised it in wordless tribute to the girl's thoughtfulness. "How have you escaped the lure of caffeine?"

She shrugged. "Good sleeping habits and youth? I hear that will change once I get to college."

Beckett confirmed, "It did for me." She took another large swig and offered more appreciation. "The laptop and antique desk in the guest room are also due to your consideration. Thank you for being so thoughtful."

"Thanks for the vegetable lasagna. It was wonderful. I'd love to watch you make it sometime if it's not a secret family recipe."

"No secret, but I usually make it in 2 steps. I make the vegetable pâté and slow cook the tomato sauce and always freeze extra. Then I can throw it in a baking dish with the noodles, cheese and whatever mushrooms or fresh veggies I have around. It can be complicated." Kate wanted to open up to Alexis and give her a chance to voice her feelings.

Alexis took it, "Dad said you'd be here more often, need your own space, and that you two are doing a 'trial run.' From his babbling I concluded that you are keeping this a secret and you aren't boyfriend and girlfriend?"

'It's complicated' wasn't going to work this time. "For the next few weeks I am trying to spend time with your dad outside of the precinct. We have some things to learn about each other before we can ever get together."

Alexis glanced up the stairs to the guest room. "Forgive me, detective, but this seems more like a cruel tease than a step closer. After a few weeks you can decide to cut him out of your life - again?"

Kate cringed and decided to be just as blunt. "Kissing someone is easy. Knowing when you _can't _kiss and make it better is much more difficult to figure out. Sometimes quiet support is better than even the most eloquent prose. And once in a while taking a break from each other is kinder than the clashes that would have otherwise occurred."

There was a pause just short of pregnant. "Oh. Since my breakup with Ash I realize how much work relationships really do take. All I want is for you to be honest with my dad. He's a good guy once you train him."

'_Honest' as in not lying about remembering declarations of love? 'Honest' as the opposite of withholding information about working a secret case of a Russian mobster? _"I am going to spend my day swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth. It's interesting they don't use the word 'honesty.' I bet your dad would love to tell us the difference." She smiled at the diversion and because his daughter shared a grin.

"I noticed how different you look this morning, so now I know it is for court. I couldn't believe it was because of dad."

The woman hid behind her cup of coffee. Right, the rare opportunity to wear a skirt and enjoy some feminine attire had _nothing_ to do with Richard Castle. She let the misconception linger instead of illustrating the subtle affect her father had even on a hardened cop.

"What is because of me?" An adorable, bed head, rumpled and robed man appeared in the kitchen. He absently kissed his daughter's head and then Kate's, and went straight for the coffee.

Beckett stiffened slightly at the casual display of affection and noticed Alexis trying not to smile.

The daughter answered, "I liked Kate's boots and skirt and knew it wasn't for your benefit." She watched her dad whip around to check out those legs. When his longing fixated on her lower extremities, Alexis decided now was a very good time to distract him so Kate wouldn't have to fend him off. "Dad." She waited until her silence forced his attention back to her. "I only have a half day of school, so I'll be here for dinner. If you are going to court with Detective Beckett I bet you'll be home at a decent time and we can all eat together."

"Sorry pumpkin. I've got special training sessions all day. I'll grab something on the run for dinner."

"Special training?"

"I've been going to sensitivity training sessions at 1 Police Plaza this week." Castle saw the incredulous look the detective shot him at the blatant lie. Fortunately Alexis missed it.

"Sensitivity? Oh, you mean like not making inappropriate jokes at crime scenes and not talking about the real murders with your poker buddies?"

"Yes, exactly. Captain Gates arranged it for me."

"I really don't like that woman."

"In the interest of honesty I'll admit the same." Kate smirked and Castle bobbed his head with enthusiasm.

The girl's phone beeped and she gathered up her things. "I'm off to school. See you guys tonight! Bye."

When she was safely out of earshot, Beckett reminded the distracted father, "We've got plans for dinner tonight."

"Yes but I couldn't very well tell my daughter I was meeting a mobster for dinner or that you and I were going out to eat and she wasn't welcome." The inherent conflict between Tinkerbelle and Wendy was never going to go away.

The next phone that sounded was Beckett's extra mobile unit provided by Fallon. She checked the ID display and confirmed the number for 'Indiana.' "Hello." She listened intently to his instructions and jotted down a few notes. "OK." She ended the call. She eyed her beloved partner. "Hurry up, Peter, we're going to learn to fly - sort of."

In record time the writer of wrongs sat behind the wheel of the Ferrari and followed directions from his live navigation assistant to the race track. "My life is awesome. I get to spend the day driving fast and playing chase with the most amazing partner. I can't help but think good thoughts and feel like I could fly away with you and live happily ever after."

"Easy there, fabled young-at-heart. Fallon got my court case postponed because he wants an extended briefing with me. You still have to do your physical training and only then do we get a defensive driving and evasive maneuvers lesson." Serious Beckett was trying to rein him in.

The only rain he wanted was in the form of rainbows. "How can this not be one of the best days ever? We're away from Iron Shackles, we're going to a race track, we're contributing to a top secret investigation, and we're together! Seriously - lighten up!"

There were so many ways she could interpret the 'we're together' statement, but she ignored that part. All of the dark days she fought through in the past were in glaring contrast to a day like this. The sun burned through the crisp, cool day and bounced off the red Ferrari. Her personal quest for justice may be taking a hiatus, but her innate need still served the greater good. She reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "Life is good. Thank you for reminding me."

Beckett's phone rang and she pulled both out and answered her regular number. "Beckett... Hey Lanie, what's up?"

Castle listened to her side of the conversation with more interest when she pulled away her hand from him. "Sorry I can't do a girl talk lunch. …No, I am supposed to be at the courthouse all day. …No, we can't bitch-about-boys over the phone. …No, There's nothing new with Castle and I so you can have insider scoop and win the bet. …Yes, I know how expensive that pair of shoes is and how buying them would make you feel better. I've got to go. Bye Lanie…"

"I'll be happy to give your best friend a few details that might help her win the pool of money riding on us." He knew she was going to threaten him, but he was curious if the changes in their relationship were just for the case.

"Castle, don't you dare! What happens between us is no body's business except maybe your daughter and my shrink. Right now walls are a good thing because I am going to close that door and concentrate on the briefing. We're here."

This was huge, but she was right: time to pay attention. Castle noted right away that something had changed with Fallon.

"We had a Patriot Act wiretap to listen in to your visit last night. You did really good, detective. Bigtree wants you both a little given more information about the objective."

Castle went over to the coffee machine and poured two cups. He offered one to the agent but he refused, so he sat it in front of his chair. Of course his alter ego got her cup first.

"Only because you are familiar with events from last year can I tell you about this. Since that time I have been trying to track where the nuclear material came from. I don't know _how_ they got it in the country, but I do know _who_ got it in."

Captain obvious made the point, "The kid's godfather is a godfather."

Beckett had done some quiet research of her own, "He smuggles anything anyone is willing to pay for: from kidnapping doctors and women to street drugs and pharmaceuticals. He imports and exports medical supplies, x-ray machines, and research equipment which could make an effective cover for radioactive material."

Fallon delivered the news, "There is a shipment coming in of high value." He let the ominous and momentous implications from the past give weight to the future. "That's about all we know. We don't know what it is, how soon it hits our shore and we don't know where he keeps it. He was the guy responsible for getting it in last time and we've let him stay out there because of this exact fear."

"What do you want from us?" Castle knew the chances of them getting anything was slim.

"He's got so many warehouses and shipping containers spread all over the region we can't monitor them all. We've eliminated a few by getting someone inside and checking for residual radiation, but that has proven a difficult and time consuming. Sometimes it is legitimate medical equipment giving off a low reading instead of residual decay from the cobalt 60. It has a half life of 5.27 years. We are looking for a proverbial needle in a haystack."

The agent continued, "Any info is great but just meeting with him is also good. We'll fit you with a silent radiation monitor to see if higher reading indicate recent contact. If so, we'll know where to look because we've got him under surveillance. Most of all, we'd like to push for future contact away from public venues. This is more dangerous, but it helps us get behind the scenes. I have to ask for the record if you're willing to proceed, Detective?"

Castle cut in, "Beckett, think about this. We don't have Ryan and Esposito at our back. The surveillance team will be too far out for immediate assistance." He begged her, nonverbally, to be cautious.

She had her blinders on, "Roy Montgomery said there are no victories, only the battle. I'm a soldier. Enough said."

"Kate, this isn't the dragon."

"If it were, would you let me go or pull me back?" If he could play dirty so could she.

He backed off feeling the full measure of guilt for his interference in that part of her life. There were files of incriminating evidence and he was withholding that knowledge from her. He tried a conciliatory tone, "How do you think things will play out this evening?"

Fallon was glad the gung-ho author was cautious and both were back on the same side. "I think it will become a simple negotiation for a payoff amount. You made a strong impression on the boy and he begged his protector to 'negotiate with honor.' He sees you as one of them. Of course you have to win over Ivan Zhuk. Any danger or threats will come from his body guard, Boris Yukes. He has his own lackey named Aleksandr Smee."

"We've met Smee. He's a real slim ball and the one I'm most worried about," Castle remembered the way he singled Beckett out at the prison."

"Yes the 'little tiger' has a nasty reputation, but Yukes is the hit man." Fallon emphasized.

Beckett nodded at the danger assessment. "Anything else we need to know?"

"It might be a good strategy for you to handle the threats and let Rick handle the negotiations. He needs to have legitimate importance to you so he can stay close."

They both agreed and had no more questions. Castle was sent for physical training and Beckett stayed behind. When they were alone she turned on Fallon. "Why the hell are you teaching him how to break necks and pick locks?"

"Beckett, he's not getting training needed to be a legitimate agent or lawfully serve for an extended time in an undercover role. He's getting a down and dirty smattering of skills that might come in handy or keep him alive. He's a very smart man if a tad reckless. For the immediate future he's protected by a certain amount of immunity if he has to employ this training. In the future he's got enough connections and wealth to get himself out of any inappropriate uses of these abilities. You're a cop and between the two of you I hope we've stacked the deck so you'll both come out alive."

She didn't like it but it made sense. "How do you rate his abilities?"

He smiled at her. "You two are a hell of a team. No one else would get the green light on this." He motioned for her to follow and they went to watch his martial arts quick course. A window separated them from the training area covered with mats and padding on the walls.

"Monday he was taught quick kill methods. Tuesday was close quarter combat. Today is defensive maneuvers." Fallon paused to watch; Beckett paused to evaluate. The maneuver to get out of a choke hold was demonstrated. Rick nodded and the instructor grasped Rick with the death grip. He executed the maneuver to free himself flawlessly.

Fallon was impressed. "That's what happens every time. They show him once and he's got it. Now they'll repeat it at real speed."

Rick saw his audience and waved like a proud boy. The instructor came up behind him and put the choke hold on the distracted man. Instead of Rick crouching down and flipping the instructor over him as expected, Rick used his larger frame to push them both backwards landing his attacker underneath him. A large whoosh of air and a crack of a head momentarily stunned his opponent. It was enough of an advantage for the writer to roll away and deliver a parting blow to the windpipe that would have been fatal. He got to his feet and smirked at Fallon's stunned look and Beckett's signature eye roll.

She turned away from him and gave an I-told-you-so to Fallon. "Now you know what it is like working with Richard Castle. You expect one thing and he does another. He is full of surprises and won't stay in the car even when handcuffed."

Fallon choked on the handcuff comment but he had an opening to exploit. "As much as Mr. Castle may want to practice, ah, _grappling moves _with you, I suggest you limit that to the playful ones. There is a danger…"

Beckett cut him off, "I get it. My competitiveness and his undisciplined control make it a very real possibility one of us will get hurt."

Fallon moved them away now realizing how big of a factor Kate Beckett is with everything in Richard Castle's life.

Beckett followed still awed by what she saw and heard. Just like with shooting, he pretended to be a clown and stunned with proficiency. She was secretly turned on by his abilities in a deep, feral way. Forcing her body to quit reacting to images of playful grappling with the big strong man she forced her mind to hear Fallon's calm instructions.

"You are going to run the oval track first to get used to handling a sports car at high speed. Then we will turn you loose on the evasive maneuvers course."

"Why a sport car instead of something more like my crown vic?"

"If it is a police matter you'll have backup, probably be in the city surrounded by traffic, and you've had basic training at the academy. We don't have time to waste on repeats. The women's dressing room is through there. You'll find fire suits and helmets…"

Beckett's phone interrupted and she announced, "Captain Gates is calling." The detective took a deep breath, "Yes sir? …Yes the case was postponed but the ADA still wanted to meet with me. …No sir, I don't think I'll make it back to the precinct today. No sir, Castle is not with me. You sent him for sensitivity training. …Maybe he wondered off and got lost. 1PP is a big place. …Yes sir I will come see you first thing tomorrow morning." When she put her phone away she looked at Fallon.

The agent quietly groused, "She is making the clandestine part of this investigation much more difficult."

"Try working for her."

Fallon felt a tad guilty. He knew what he was putting them through on top of already difficult lives. "This case is too highly classified to brief her in. I have paperwork filed at 1PP with Thompson to prioritize your involvement, but it is sealed and can't be revealed until this part of the investigation is over. I'll make the necessary arrangements to stomp on her curiosity. Cover story will be in the form of a sealed grand jury testimony that you are providing for a case that occurred before she was captain."

Beckett nodded and went in to suit up. She wasn't going to let Gates ruin this day. She got a safety reminder and a lesson on high speed dynamics of a chase. She drove the simulator through various permutations. Then she came out in her green and white fire suit and got in a sweet little black Porsche. As instructed, she zipped around the track a few times to get the feel of the car and how it responded at various speeds. Then she let it rip.

The exhilaration plastered a huge smile on her face. Better than the freedom of her bike this little baby was effortless to drive. It responded with the barest correction and cradled her with sleek horsepower.

He grin was ripped away when a red Ferrari swept by her. _Oh no, he does not get bragging rights._ She floored the gas pedal and gave chase. Once she caught him she tried to go around but he blocked her. He actually cut her off and she over corrected, losing speed with a slight fishtail. She cursed at her mistake. He was racing high letting her catch back up to him. When he let her take the lead she was really pissed. She vowed he would never get out front again. He was going to smell her exhaust the rest of the day.

He shot by her and had the gall to wave as he went. She wanted to flip him her middle finger but put safety first and kept both hands on the wheel. No matter what she tried she couldn't get around him. His vehicle and reflexes were too good. He was _good_. Damn, why did that make her hot in a non-angry sexually charged I-want-him way? Fast cars and fast moves stirred a flutter that made her squirm with repressed desire.

She slowed the car and came down off the curves to enter the pit area she started from. She got out and waited for the well earned teasing that would come. When he pulled up a few minutes later all he could do was leer. Maybe she wasn't the only one who reacted to their hard fast chase.

"What? Having visions of Danica Patrick?" She knew the driving instructor was watching them.

"You're taller. And you know that's the only reason I picked you for Nikki Heat." He laughed at the banter and said nothing else.

"You were good out there." She offered the honest compliment and said even more with her eyes.

"Beckett, I've rented track time on several occasions since I've had my shiny red boy toy. The Porsche didn't stand a chance in a contest of raw horsepower."

The driving instructor took that opening to introduce the next challenge. The obstacle course was about decisions, reaction, and maneuverability. Each would ride along as the instructor drove and then he would coach them as they steered through the course. The last run would be alone and timed.

Castle's turn came first. The instructor made it look easy as he made the tight turns and dodged the obstacles. Castle's practice run had him spinning out instead of a 180 and knocking pylons over while weaving in and out.

Beckett knew he'd learn from his mistakes and do well on his final run. He did a respectable 17 minutes.

She surprised him by choosing the Porsche over his Ferrari claiming she had the 'feel' of it from the oval track.

She surprised him again by taking the practice run at a slower speed focusing on perfecting the maneuvers necessary to each section of the course. She made driving the car backwards look ridiculous easy, and skidded to a stop within two feet of the target garnering far fewer penalty seconds than her partner. When it came to the timed run, she flew.

She weaved expertly in and out of the cones, controlled her skid around corners, did the 180 flawlessly and executed all the obstacles with a finesse that mesmerized the men. When she skidded to the stop, the bumper of the car caressed the target. No penalty seconds were added from anywhere on the track. She got out and actually ran gloved fingers loving along the sleek lines of black. Whipping off her helmet and shaking loose her mane of brunette curls, she stopped when she caught all the men staring at her. "What?"

The instructor was in awe of her skills, "You missed the course record for first time drivers by a mere 27 seconds. You beat Mr. Castle's time by a minute and 18 seconds."

Fallon was in awe of her ability to handle adrenaline despite the PTSD diagnosis in her file.

Castle was in awe of the way she stroked the car. "I'm buying you a Porsche. That was too damn hot never to see again."

"Rick, don't you dare buy me a car. I'll refuse to drive it."

"Fine, it will sit there. It will rust away, lonely, calling to you, begging you to become one with it and break free and loose yourself with wild abandon." Maybe he wasn't talking about just a car. She turned away with a blush and headed back to the locker room.

Castle watched her ass as she sauntered away. "Damn lucky car." He shook his head.

"Man, who turns down a Porsche? The instructor grumbled on behalf of his mechanical pets. He only wanted them to go to good home with regular maintenance and drivers who proved their worth. He shook his head.

The author had to stop writing the scene in his head when his phone rang. "Hey pumpkin. How was school?"

"Dad, where are you?"

"Why, what's wrong? Do I need to come get you?"

"No, I'm not in trouble. Just answer my question."

"Alexis, tell me what is going on."

"I could ask the same of you but I doubt I'd get a straight answer."

He sighed. "I'll be as honest as I can. What do you need to know?" He saw Fallon go on alert, but his daughter was more important than anything.

"Honest with me by telling me you are going to be at 1PP today? Honest with yourself about Kate? Honest with Kate about her mother's investigation?"

"Why do you think I wasn't at 1PP today?" He feed his curiosity so he could ignore the shredding of the vital organ thumping in his chest.

"Because Captain Nosey called here today looking for you. I told her you were at sensitivity training and she told me she had to be there to drop off some reports. The security log shows you never signed in there today. So like father like daughter, I am just another lying frivolous Castle. So whatever poison you drank that makes you think its ok to lie by omission or obfuscation I got by association. Thanks dad. I really can't take anymore of your honesty. It kills trust and I just drank the poison." She hung up on him.

Fallon didn't need the details. He pieced together enough of the story. "I'll have our contact at police headquarters ready to verify a cover story with a professor of Women's Studies at NYU. We use her as a consultant. She'll call you this evening for a 'follow up' to your session today. That should give you some legitimacy."

He nodded and headed in the locker rooms. What started as a beautiful day just had a giant cloud cast a shadow over his idyllic life. He kicked himself for wielding the truth instead of honesty. Truth - factually correct. Honest - morally upright. Sometimes being a wordsmith sucked.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Hey readers, Obviously Alexis is pissed and that will be dealt with, but not immediately. <em>

_There's a section in Peter Pan that tells who is chasing whom. _

_My homage to that was this chapter with who is deceiving/hiding something from whom. Rick holds out on Kate and Alexis, Alexis plays into the deception on Gates and Kate, Fallon hold back info from Kate and Rick, Kate withholds from Rick and Lanie, and the Russians are trying to hide something from everyone. And yes, I may be holding out on you..._


	9. Borscht

**Peter Pan**: "One girl is more use than 20 boys."

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><p>"That's lover's red, not a rose red," the author pointed at the tablecloth. "The seats are angry red; that garish color that gets your blood pumping. These walls are more of a regal red." Now the bottom of the soup bowl was under consideration. "I proclaim it a deep, earthy clay hue." He kept pointing to objects and qualifying their redness.<p>

"Can't you just call it beet red and be done with it?" They were inside the _Borscht at the Batva _diner waiting for the entrée to be delivered. They finished the fabled soup and Castle was calming his nerves by talking.

"Occupational hazard." He ginned at her. The ethnic setting let more than a few tidbits from Kate's childhood memories of her grandparents slip into the conversation. While he always wanted to peel her onion, he didn't want to be distracted while waiting for mobsters.

Kate knew how to focus him. She took a piece of the hard crusted bread with the nubs of sea salt and slathered some butter on it. She tore off a smaller piece and brought her fingers to his lips to offer him a bite. His eyes stilled and his lips savored her fingertips. Forget the bread.

They both noticed the 3 men enter the diner but pretended not to care. Kate took the other half of bread and enjoyed her morsel if his focus on her mouth was any indication. She reached back to Rick's lips to swipe her thumb over an imaginary crumb and he captured her hand to kiss her wrist.

When it became apparent that they had an audience Castle looked up at the man. He looked much less like a pirate dressed in red and black and more like a common thug tonight although he carried a large knife on his belt. His gun was hidden. Castle recalled their first encounter at the prison and told him quietly, "Go screw yourself."

Aleksandr Smee ignored the man and leered at the woman. "I am here to invite you to the table of Mr. Zhuk." His tiger tattooed arm swept towards another table in the back of the restaurant. "First though, I must search you for weapons. This part of my job I enjoy," he openly lusted at Kate.

"You are a low-life pervert who tried to grab my girlfriend's ass. I will not tolerate even an interruption from you again." Castle's eyes were back on Beckett as they held a wordless conversation. She held his hand lightly ready for what might come next.

Smee looked over at the table of his superiors and waited for instructions like the good lackey he was. With a tilt of the head he was sent to stand guard at the door. This time Boris Yukes stalked up to their table and stood menacingly over Beckett.

"What do you want?" she asked, ignoring the hulk above her and sending the question across the space to the captain of the thugs calmly lighting a cigar. So much for the no smoking ban in restaurants.

The towering presence above answered with mean accented English, "We need to privately talk. Join Mr. Zhuk at his table." He glared at the man since the woman wouldn't look at him.

She dropped her hand under the table and ran it along the muscular thigh of the man sitting next to her (this time he didn't flinch under her teasing finger play.) The caress was not hidden. Her gaze was directed at Zhuk even as she continued to foster the sexual chemistry with Rick. "I'm quite comfortable where I am." She wasn't going to give up situational advantage of the present table to get backed into a corner with the head guy.

"You are cop, yes?" Yukes looked for the bulge of her weapon.

For the first time she acknowledged the enforcer. He was remarkable only because he perfectly fulfilled expectations: bulk, dead eyes, and tattooed skin. She warned him, "My boyfriend is the only one who gets to pat me down and live to tell about it."

"You wear a wire?"

She directed this response to Rick, "I would ask if he meant an under wire bra, but I think the humor would get lost in translation." Castle's mouth dropped at the loose and playful tactic she was taking.

Rick answered the thug, "Recording this is not in our best interest. This isn't about bribing an officer but reaching an agreement for mutual benefit. Let's get down to business."

There was a long pause as the entrées were served. Castle's exclaimed over the aroma of the beef stroganoff. The thick noodles were definitely homemade and the sauce hinted of real cream in it. Kate's dish was plain by comparison. Chicken and potatoes. She caught the judgment in Rick's glance and schooled him, "The test with chicken Kiev is what's on the inside."

Castle spared only a moment for the men, giving his attention to the one still standing over Kate. "You are welcome to join us at our table. Otherwise you must excuse us until desert and coffee." He didn't have to pretend as he tasted his first mouthful and sighed with bliss. "Kate, this is _gooood. _I ate at the Russian Tea Room, before the renovation fiasco, and it wasn't this nearly as full flavored as this." She smiled at his enjoyment, keeping her own assessment hidden.

Boris gave up and sat down with them. "You threatened Little Man. I threaten you. I like to break kneecaps."

"_How cliché," _the author thought.

The detective snapped at the thug, showing some irritation for the first time. "Yes, you threaten. I teach. No one forgets my lessons." Again she addressed the lone man at the other table. He was putting his phone away. "The little man has been coddled. He can't hold his vodka, he can't protect himself, and neither of you understand _kulturniy_!" The affront to his character was a minor slight about refinement but one calculated to sting.

She returned her focus to Rick and the food on her plate. "I was spoiled by chicken Kiev in Kiev. Never have I found a place here to rival the authentic flavor, but this comes close." It might be unwise to revisit a diner that was frequented by Russian mafia, but damn if the food didn't make it tempting.

"Я не знаю, что вы ездили на родину." (_I didn't know you traveled to the motherland.)_

Beckett regarded Mr. Zhuk's arrival at their table. "I will not speak to another man in a language my boyfriend doesn't understand."

"My apologies to you both. My subordinates lack polish. Aleksandr has only been working for Boris a short time, and Yukes grew up without the refinements in life. We should eat and drink together and become old friends."

He held out his hand to Castle and the author stood to shake it. The duo noted the gnarled left hand that curled his fingers into a semblance of a hook. "I'm Richard. My lovely lady is Katherine."

"Ivan Zhuk. Pleased to meet you both and talk in person. My godson was quite captivated by you, Detective Beckett." He claimed their table as his own.

"You, on the other hand, are quite annoyed with me for my callous assessment of his character and its reflection on you." Beckett feigned indifference at pissing off a mobster and resumed enjoyment of her meal. It was fun waving a red flag at this man.

That rallied Yukes to reenter the conversation "We not need you. We will move one of our own in to share the cell."

Beckett was now truly pissed she had to recount this story and call their bluff. "Must I continue as the schoolteacher and give history lessons? At that prison a guard was bribed which led, indirectly, to an inmate escaping. That convict killed a police captain. Bribing a corrections officer at the facility is damn near impossible now, but you are welcome to try." Whether they knew her involvement in the events was irrelevant for this part of the chess match.

Having parried their move, she made her own attack. "There is this one convict I put there that is mentally unstable. He likes to 'purge evil.' When I arrested him I was wearing a white blouse and that's all it took for him to think I'm a saint. If I would dare let it slip how little Dmitry has demons in him from his drinking days the results could be… unfortunate." The red herring was a false flag but they didn't know that.

If Ivan played poker his tell would make him loose. This guy didn't often get bullied and he was pricked and it irritated him. "What my burly associate is trying to say that we do not yet have a reason to trust you. Your reputation, detective, is rather, um, hard. We do not wish to make you an enemy. Monetary enticements seem ridiculous since your boyfriend is a millionaire."

Castle had been watching Beckett's success at getting under this guy's skin. Ivan's need to protect his godson was a weakness and this guy didn't have many weaknesses. Rick had a sudden bout of inspiration and pushed his plate away. Hopefully his plan wouldn't push Beckett away. "That is my cue."

The author took over. "Time for a little give and take. We are not so different. We do anything for the ones we love. Your reputation of hardness is earned - you get what you want at any cost and keep what you have through cunning and fear. My reputation is made by selling fear, albeit for entertainment. My partner's reputation is especially hard earned since she goes after what she wants without fear. There is one thing she wants at any cost."

"Richard… wall it up, now." There was no way he was about to do this to her in public. There was no way he was going to open her deepest wound. There is no way he was going to barter with the most painful part of her life…

He placed a single finger over her lips. On a good day 'shushing' her would be a bad idea. Doing it as an act to show his dominance of her was an idea with explosive repercussions. Regardless of the consequences, the importance of the moment was not lost one anyone at the table.

Castle looked away and focused only on the alpha male. He had to do this quickly before he regretted selling her out, "I need you to bribe a fire investigator to ignore arson and rule it an accident caused by electrical wiring."

Beckett sucked in a deep breath. He really did it. He traded her tragedy for solidarity with scum. Even if it was brilliant and the only way to proceed, it wasn't his flesh and blood to use as bait. No one had that right but her. This wasn't the plan. Beckett's eyes narrowed and everything else fell away.

Ivan Zhuk smiled at the writer. This was something easy. "We will talk to this man today. Where is this building that has burnt?"

Castle wasn't letting him off that easy. "The building will be one of _your_ warehouses. We want to see it before this unfortunate _accident_ occurs. I know you have many properties, and I will need a list so we can pick out which one is within this man's coverage area." That should make Fallon forgive him for going rogue.

True negotiation had begun. "No you do not get a list. Tell me why I must suffer the loss of my property to help you frame this corrupt man?"

"You must have a legitimate reason for bargaining with the inspector so it must be your loss. We need to see the property first to take pictures and see how the bastard explains things in his report. Why we want this man is not your concern; it is the price of protection for your godson."

"How soon? How much of the building must burn?" The businessman inside him took over.

"The parole hearing is in 2 weeks so everything must be done by then. Once final preparations are ready and the fireman is willing to accept the payoff, the detective will send a letter fighting parole. As long as you follow through with actual fire, everyone will get what they want."

"I will not implicate myself by talking to this man personally." The smuggler reasserted control.

Castle nodded, "I don't give a damn who meets with him, but I don't want anyone hurt. I don't need a large fire. I just need arson ruled as an accident by this man and no other. Is this too much for you to accomplish?"

"Too much? You would shudder at the things I have done and will do." Zhuk reigned in his bravado. "Setting someone up is a fun diversion for me. My business is demanding; people constantly need ruled, but it is work. This is personal. Leave a message here for Boris as soon as you have a map with boundaries outlined. He will know which properties are available."

Her voice cut off further conversation. "Good. Then we are done." Exactly who and what was 'done' remained unclear. The woman was pissed and went outside in a huff. The men looked at one another with shared pity. Castle shrugged and reached for his wallet.

Ivan stopped him. "Really my friend, you must allow me to treat. Your money is better spent on flowers." It was no secret even to a stranger that Katherine was seeing red.

Castle almost asked if he had any advice for dealing with angry Russian women, but if he thought flowers would be helpful the rest of his devices were not going to be useful. "Thanks - _spasibo."_

He went outside to find her sitting in the car. Remembering she had keys to it now, he was suddenly appreciative she didn't drive off and strand him there. Then again, when he got inside the vehicle and felt the Siberian chill, maybe it would have been kinder.

"Kate, I didn't see any other way to…"

"Not one more word. Not one. Take me home. You call this in to Fallon." The red blooded woman turned to ice and the permafrost between them made a freezer balmy by comparison.


	10. 10 Tinkerbelle's Arrow

_Previously-Alexis caught her dad lying to her and Captain Gates. Beckett is also mad at Castle and pushed him away for the evening._

Peter to Tinkerbelle: "Don't you understand Tink, you mean more to me than anything in the whole world!"

* * *

><p>Richard offered his mother some red wine - the good stuff.<p>

Not one to turn down alcohol, still she queried, "To what do I owe the A-list treatment?"

Castle quipped, "I am trying to stay in your good graces so you don't cut me out of your will."

"You jest my dear son, but my acting school may become a financial success and you will rue the day I disinherited you." She dismissed his jest with a wave.

"I pray that it does and would encourage you to create a trust to see that the legacy continues."

"Oh dear. This is serious. What have you done to piss off Beckett?" She knew him too well.

He didn't dally with the information, "You know Agent Bigtree needed to meet with Beckett and me. I can't go into details but it is a follow-up to what happened last year. It is important that you know the stakes are high so you'll understand why I was desperate to come up with a story that would explain why a very good cop would be able to be corrupted."

"Richard, you did not! Even I know that there is only one way to make Beckett put on blinders. You did not open up her mother's case and put the crosshairs back on her!" The mother openly gasped at the thought her son could be so dense.

"See, that's the brilliance of the plan. Beckett isn't pursuing a lead into her mother's case. A red rooskie is going to see if a fire inspector will overlook arson in exchange for something he wants. Kate is safe and the case progresses. I think it is the most amazing thing I could ever do for her. Unlike last time, _we_ have an understanding about pursuing the case." Despite the confident tone, he waited unsure.

Martha was a veteran of twisted plots from her son's writing and from her many roles. This one left a bitter taste. "My opinion is irrelevant. If Katherine can't have a deeper relationship until her walls come down, are you doing this for selfish reasons or did you barter with the most fragile part of her psyche for the sake of national security?"

"I did it for Kate, for national security and for Kate's future happiness even if it means it's not with me."

Sounding altruistic didn't make it so. "What does Kate think of this development?"

"I don't know," he admitted. The car was a little frosty on the way home and I was forbidden to speak. She usually needs some time alone with stuff like this."

"Hmmm. I think you better find a hell of a way to say you're sorry."

"Yes, I've been working on that very plan. I've taken care of the easy stuff, but I have a golden opportunity to exploit tomorrow's forecast as a windy day. I need to check with Alexis before I can go any further."

Martha assumed she was upstairs studying. "Where is Alexis so late on a school night?"

"She and another girl give a presentation tomorrow. Her cohort plays basketball and they couldn't get together until after the game. I told Alexis she could be out until midnight and for once she didn't argue."

Mother and son were watching the news when the call came in from the 8th precinct. The officer on the phone explained an altercation at a nightclub led to an impromptu sweep of patrons for drugs, guns, or underage drinking. Alexis Castle was taken into police custody for drinking using a false ID. But the redhead was remembered from her appearance at Captain Montgomery's funeral and that meant she got special treatment. A squad car was bringing her home.

Castle was wholly unprepared for the transgression. Drinking he could deal with. Drinking on a school night was huge. Drinking at a bar was hugely serious. Lying about where you were on a school night so you could drink at a bar left him stunned.

Two of the three important women in Richard Castle's life were mad at him. He asked his mother to step aside for the upcoming discussion on drinking and he waited for his daughter.

If Castle's first reaction was to be surprised, his second was to be appalled at her lack of remorse. He evaluated the short red dress that made his daughter look much older than her years. The heavy makeup also sent the wrong signal. He made a snap decision how to dissect her defenses.

She challenged him easily, "They didn't charge me so what's the big deal? Besides, you've got a police record with alcohol related infractions."

"Yes and no. They aren't going to take away my license or mess up a scholarship. That can happen to you." He started with the simplest offence. "You lied to me."

"Now we're even." She shrugged. Her dad was a softie and she was going to take full advantage.

"No but we are going to reach an understanding." He pulled out 2 tumblers. "What were you drinking?"

"What?" She was ready to battle with words. His actions fell outside her prepared defenses.

He waited instead of repeating the inquisition.

"Southern Comfort and coke." She had it before but he didn't know that.

_Not a girly choice. This was bad. _He poured them each a round, albeit very small ones. He drank his and motioned for her to join him.

"Is this your way of being the cool dad and saying I can drink at home?"

"Nope. Drink up." Hopefully he imitated Beckett's stare and goaded his daughter out of her comfort zone.

Alexis drank it. She reveled in the hardness of the drink and the discomfort it was causing him.

He splashed another hint of whiskey in their glasses and topped it with coke. He downed his in short order. "Drink the poison."

She knew about hangovers. "Dad, no. I wasn't going to get drunk."

"Peer pressure is a bitch. Drink up." His voice got hard.

Reluctantly she took a sip.

He stared until she drank more.

"So my punishment is getting drunk with my dad? Great role model." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Nope, not a punishment. You wanted to drink, so you must be prepared for the consequences. Of course being safe at home is a far cry from the usual issues that can affect a young woman."

"Dad, don't go there."

"You don't want to hear about casual sex statistics and how alcohol affects decisions? Do you want to know how condom use drops the more drinks each person had? Want to hear about HIV infection rates for heterosexual girls?"

"Eww dad. Move on."

"OK. You want to talk about role models? Your gram and I drink. If I thought making our house alcohol free would help you make better choices, I'd institute the ban immediately. The alcohol isn't the problem. Your coping mechanisms are the problem."

He motioned for her to drink up and she did out of spite. He immediately refilled their glasses. "Talk or drink."

She poured her drink down the drain.

"Are you acting out against me for lying, against having Kate in my life, against yourself for not getting in to Stanford, or against Ashley for not being a good boyfriend?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Can we just keep this about you and me?"

"Fine. I'm listening. Start talking." Having goaded her he now hoped her defenses were a little lower and a loose tongue might prevail.

She started ranting at her dad, "Your words are like fairy dust. They don't mean anything. You live in a fantasy world. You're trying to be a pale imitation of Derrick Storm. Quit acting."

"How, exactly, should I be acting?"

"Mature and responsible leap to mind."

"I am mature but fun. I take responsibility for my actions."

"Dad, I'm the parent here."

"No, Alexis, you're not. I _choose_ to be easy going and balance your serious tendencies. I pretend to be a goofball to balance the murder and mayhem that might otherwise seep into our home from my profession. I'm the one who earned millions through my writing and found the balance of giving you everything you need without putting a silver spoon in your mouth. I'm your primary parent who decided _not_ to hire a nanny so I would be completely and fully in your life. Just so we're clear, you may act like the parent but I am proud to be your dad and work at it harder than anything else in my life."

The teenager didn't stop to listen to his words; she was full of angst and willing to share it. "No you work much harder at getting Beckett in bed and she's smart enough to know the second she lands there will be the beginning of the end."

That one stung worse than the cliché '_you're the worst dad in the world_.' Tinkerbelle's arrow could mortally wound.

"Yes I am working hard to build the strongest and deepest relationship I've ever had. But if you think it's about sex than I am to blame for being a poor role model." He weighed her words. His daughter was testing him to see if he would stay focused on the conversation about them or fall into the trap of distraction.

He continued, "If you want to come between this relationship lets talk about it. You don't have to sling arrows at Kate. You pick the topic but stay on point."

Alexis answered quickly, "How many lies did you tell today? You never used to lie to me until you started hanging around Beckett. You lied to me about where you were but not to Kate. What conclusion am I supposed to draw?"

"If you're going with I love her more than I do you I am forced to be a sappy dad and set the record straight." Despite the argument, he smiled at her. He loved his daughter so damn much...

"Dad, pretty words don't make Tinkerbelle come back to life. _Believing_ does. How can I believe what you tell me anymore?"

He took her hand and lost himself in the memories. "I've been lying to you your whole life. Perhaps this is long overdue, but Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny don't exist."

That broke some tension and small smiles escaped. They squeezed each other's hand and each took a deep breath.

He debated briefly which way to write the rest of the scene. Seeing her as a young woman on the cusp of adulthood, he opted for honesty. "The world we live in has people who want very bad things to happen. The stakes are too high to play games, but I hope to God I am able to remain playful."

"Dad, you became my best playmate. Now you want to be Kate's playmate and you are dabbling in dangerous waters without any training." The tension had eased but the stakes were still high.

"I am getting some unofficial training sanctioned by a certain federal agency and Captain Gates doesn't have a clue. I will take responsibility for not being a better protector of those I love. I should have been more serious about keeping up the skills I learned when I was writing the Storm novels. I want to be a better man. I am learning to put the greater good before my own interests."

The look on his daughters face meant he was in dangerous territory, doing more harm to his cause than benefit.

He reluctantly continued, "Sometimes that means I am in dangerous situations. But you need to understand this, I'm not doing it because I love Kate more, I'm doing it for **me**. Making up stories and having everyone live happily ever after isn't enough for me anymore."

"So do the scholarship thing and sponsor a kid in Africa."

"Alexis, that is superficial and I have to call you on it."

"Dad, I'm calling you on it. You sent gram and I out of town for a catastrophic event but chose to stay behind. How is that not a choice about who is more important?"

"This is hard to admit, but sometimes 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or of the one.'"

"Really Dad? Star Trek is your source of wisdom for life and death situations?" Alexis shook her head. _What would it take for him to live in the real world?_

"Honey, I can't deny it can end very badly someday. I can write a hundred scenarios on horrific outcomes by changing the tiniest detail or delaying a minute. But here is the harsh reality: I - your father - disarmed a dirty bomb."

The wide eyes and gasp accompanied, "Dad! What? No way. That's just so wrong!"

"If **I** wasn't there, we aren't sitting in Manhattan right now." The man of the family let silence give weight to his admission.

She stared, mesmerized at the calm resolve, the veiled fierceness that this person before her exuded.

"Like it or not that is the ugly truth." He almost regretted the look of horror on her face but pushed ahead. _Hope to God 'The truth shall set you free' had some magic in the present situation._

"I don't lie to you as much as not tell the complete truth, but I'm not going to play word games with you. The lies are to protect you. If you want to turn that into a judgment on how much I trust you or if I love Kate more, that is your prerogative. I hope you know nothing will ever change how much you mean to me. You are always going to be my little girl and I am going to try to spare you some worry."

It was a lot to process. She put it in perspective for him: "So, now is a good time to tell you if I was going to study criminal justice and join the FBI? Or if I want to spend a year working for the Peace Corps in the jungles of Africa, you'll understand? Then again I may want to become a nuclear engineer, or maybe I'll decide to be a fighter pilot for the Navy and fly off a carrier..."

He gulped. That made it real and ugly and wonderful at the same time. "Would I fuss and cajole you trying to change your mind? Yes. Would I love and support and be damn proud of you? Yes."

Alexis was on the cusp. She saw violence up close and personal when Kate got shot and she knew people still wanted her dead. Knowing her father was doing his part to keep her safe and saved their little corner of the world was horrifying and heroic in a completely new way. "You really disarmed a dirty bomb and you are involved in something major again?"

He nodded, but this wasn't about him. "You wanted me to grow up, just not too much. I guess I was hoping for the same of you. Keeping some cold harsh realities from my little girl will always be a failing of mine. I hope you can forgive me for lying, but I hope you understand I don't do it lightly." He squeezed her hand again, hoping the physical connection conveyed enough.

It was enough for now. Alexis slowly nodded, "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I went out drinking. Can we talk about my punishment tomorrow, because my head is spinning and all I really want to do is go lay down?"

She pulled her dad close for a hug and he kissed her forehead, "I wish I could kiss it and make it better like when you where a little girl."

Alexis squeezed him tight trying to pour into a simple action how much she loved her father. "I'm still your little girl, so don't tell me fairies aren't real."

"Hey Tinkerbelle, is this the alcohol talking?" She had a cute smirk on her face as she pulled away from him.

She was climbing the steps and called over her shoulder to repeat her claim, "What can I say, I believe in _fairies_."

He snickered at her blatant manipulation, "You haven't had your wisdom teeth out yet and you want the tooth fairy to pay big bucks for them…"

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Please consider my explaination - I know having Castle respond by drinking with Alexis appears - and is- wrong on many levels. But I was portraying Castle as having more mettle - more backbone. Perhaps he got some signs that his perfect little darling has been experimenting with alcohol and having parties. He has always been an unusual primary parent. I thought his reaction to Alexis drinking would also be unusual. He was pushing her boundaries while still trying to help protect and teach her a lesson. These 2 characters know each other's moves so well that I really wanted to try to challenge them with this scene. Still hate it?<em>

_And to those of you who are enjoying the Peter Pan analogy, this chapter was a veritable feast with Tink's arrow, drinking the poison, and believing in fairies._


	11. 11 Apple Turnover

_Previously:Fallon has surveillance on the guy who smuggled the Cobalt 60 into the country last year. Castle wants more than being on the fringe of the investigation, so he keeps upping the stakes by using anything necessary - including Johanna's murder investigation._

_"Perhaps I should have ironed his shadow." - Wendy in Peter Pan_

* * *

><p>Hot coffee and a box of pastries were the first peace offerings the story-teller planned. Castle cursed the crowds that make him run late and thwart his hope of getting to the precinct before Beckett. Instead he arrived to find his Russian school teacher in the principal's office. Damn. A pissed off woman was one thing; a cranky detective without coffee fenced in by an iron gate was impossible. <em>Damn. Damn. Damn.<em>

The man in the doghouse put an apple turnover on her desk and put the rest of the breakfast delights in the break room. Across the bullpen Gate's voice bellowed, "Mr. Castle, you're next. Get in here."

He tried to read Beckett's eyes as they passed each other but she had a mask firmly in place. He stepped inside the office, "You called?" Actually it was more like a bellow but he did have some editorial restraint. He left the door open.

"Yes. I called yesterday, too. I couldn't reach you by phone and I couldn't find you at 1 Police Plaza. Why is that?" She looked like the trap was sprung and sinking her steel teeth into him was the only thing left.

"I wasn't at the puzzle palace yesterday." OK, maybe using the derogatory moniker from his novels to describe headquarters wasn't the best idea, but he was suddenly nostalgic remembering superior officer who used to inhabit this office as opposed to the current officer who merely held the rank.

"At least you are not trying to lie to me. So why weren't you at the sensitivity training classes I ordered you to attend?" She wanted to do a little obedience training of her own.

Castle had earned his mettle and pushed back. "_You_ didn't order me to attend. My attendance was requested by Deputy Inspector Thompson. You are obviously not privy to the schedule he and I set up. If I had other meetings, more important matters to attend to, he was flexible with my attendance. As it happened, I was in a meeting yesterday and did not set foot in 1PP. Lest you think I put my real job first, I will inform you I spoke with a Professor of Women Studies yesterday to further my understanding of the female race, _sir."_

She tried to stare him down. When he didn't back down, she had to ease up. Even if Captain Gates didn't like their adopted mascot, the cops at the 12th adored the author, or at least his coffee and donuts. If she kicked their puppy without reason it would bite while she was still struggling to earn their respect. She demanded their respect but she hadn't proved she deserved it. "Very well, Mr. Castle. Are you fully sensitized now or will there be follow up sessions?"

"They said I was hopeless and that Detective Beckett must have the patience of a saint." He looked out the office window to catch her watching the interaction. As if that was the cue scripted between the duo, his partner picked up the pastry off her desk and brought it to the captain.

"This is how Castle says he's sorry; here, taste this penitence." She gave the turnover to a very surprised captain. Beckett dared further intercession, "Come on, Castle, let's prove to the captain how quiet you can be so I can finish up all my paperwork before another body drops."

Gates dismissed them with a wave and a parting shot, "How about closing up that building climber case that's getting cold?" She couldn't resist the warm temptation in her hands. She took a bite and tasted heaven: a filling not overly sweet, hinting of cinnamon wrapped in a light flaky crust. Maybe there were a few perks to keeping that man around.

The detective settled into her chair and pulled out a file to get started. When Castle didn't sit down she spared a glance up. Knowing full well her wrath from the Batva diner was weighing heavily on him; she used it to her advantage. "Yes I gave it away so don't just stand there. Go get me another one of those _apple_ turnovers before they disappear."

She was going to make him work twice as hard to get back in her good graces. Wordlessly one appeared on her desk. She waited until he sat tentatively beside her desk and then reached for her coffee. A satisfied gulp and the caffeinated woman now evaluated the baked good. She took a bite and enjoyed tasting real fruit. She finished it off and licked her lips and fingers for her audience of one. She turned her attention back to the file.

The man of words reminded himself to be quiet and let her work. He turned his attention to his phone and pulled up his safari browser. He prayed his challenge would pay off. Last night as he contemplated the possibility of getting back in Kate's good graces he came up with a plan to solve the very case Gates complained was still open. This was going to be peace offering #2 of 6. Lunch, dinner, flowers and expensive vodka rounded out the rest of the tokens he could manage with short notice.

The author convinced his publisher to let him put a money tree on the rooftop at the building where Black Pawn had its offices. He described the silly experiment where the wind would blow money off and attached to each bill was a business card asking the person to log which denomination they found and where it landed. Of course the web site was WriteRCastle and it was all 'research' for a plot point he was (not) considering. At the very least it was publicity for his web site. To ensure everything was on the up and up he hired 2 off duty cops (who needed to earn extra money - one for a new baby and one for a send-off party before his kid enlisted in the military).

More to the point the chose Black Pawn's building over his own, his publicists, the Old Haunt or even Beckett's structure because it was perfect for an urban climber to scale the outside. It was an old cinder block building of few floors and full of old architecture features with juts for hand holds. It also featured a fire escape if all else failed.

Richard Castle might have shared these observations with his daughter this morning and suggested she share it with Sidney to warn his friends away from the temptation of going after it. If they chose to post the temporary experiment limited to windy days to taunt the rival group of climbers, Castle couldn't be accused of entrapment. He wasn't a cop. He was just a bored writer who came up with weird stuff to do. The cops were there to guard the money. If they happened to catch some climbers trying to steal it, well, he'd let Beckett deal with them.

He moved on to peace offering #3: lunch. It was only 11 A.M. but he wanted to plan ahead. He also knew they needed to get out of the precinct to talk about the Homeland Security case. "I thought I'd call ahead for carry outs for lunch. Any requests?"

The detective's pen stilled over the form. She anticipated this moment, "It is a cold and windy day so I am in the mood for clam chowder - _from Boston_." Her look asked, _"Do you know how far you pushed?"_

His mouth gapped open. She was creative with her forms of punishment and damn if he didn't love the way she surprised him. With a gulp he checked his watch. Yeah, it was physically possible to have fresh clam chowder here for a late lunch. He looked up at her again. "Anyplace in particular that you want it to come from or will you trust my judgment about the best place in Bean Town?" He asked more with his eyes, _do you still trust me? _The irony wasn't lost on him: Johanna's death was volatile especially when he was the one who asked her to leave it alone and now he was the one pulling it open without consulting her.

"As long as it's very good chowder you can choose. But you might want to start on dinner first. The BBQ I want from Texas will take longer to get here." _Yes I still trust you, but you're not off the hook, yet._

"At least you're keeping it within the continental United States." He pretended to grumble and scrolled through his contacts to make arrangements for a helicopter and plane.

Quietly she admonished him, "Pull a stunt like that again and I'll make you go to China the next time I want Chinese food." She unobtrusively put a hand over his phone to stop his preparations. "We _will_ talk tonight. Until then stop planning whatever symbolic gestures you think will make it up to me."

"Um, it may be too late to halt all the acts of contrition." He could stop the flower delivery and the assortment of flavor infused vodka being sent over from the Old Haunt, but the money tree was already posted on the underground web site.

"Castle, what have you done?" She asked warily.

Like a well scripted play his phone rang. "Hello? …Was anyone hurt? …Great! We'll be over to get them right away. Thanks guys."

He turned to face a very annoyed detective. "You have 2 buildering suspects waiting to be questioned. You'll find them in custody on the roof of Black Pawn."

Now it was her mouth that gapped open. "How… Never mind." She'd get the story privately. She took a moment to appreciate the lengths he'd go for her. "Come on, Castle. I'll let you pick out which suspect we interrogate and we'll dump the other one on the guys."

On the way her partner briefed her on Fallon's reaction to the dinner meeting. "Our secret agent knew everything before I even told him, so I suspect they had the place wiretapped. He liked that I tried for a list of properties. Bigtree is not happy with the looming destruction of property and potential entrapment of the squeaky clean fire chief, but he didn't pull the plug on the setup."

The strategic pause was to see if Beckett was going to share how pissed she was at him using her mother's murder to barter with a Mafioso. When the silence spoke too much he resumed sharing the latest information. "Fallon is going to messenger us a list of properties owned by their business interests and prioritize which ones he wants us to push for."

Again Beckett was quiet, so Castle rambled on. "Fallon gave me the background on the case. They had a homeless guy who had radiation exposure. After a lot of quiet investigation they narrowed it down to a soup kitchen managed by our lovely dinner companion Boris Yukes. He uses some of the homeless guys for odd jobs and they also run them through a free clinic owned by the brotherhood. There is some scam. They over-bill the government, but not enough to prompt an investigation. This homeless guy went to the clinic and they detected the radiation levels but didn't report it and actually lied to him about it. Anyway, that was one of the breaks on who was behind supplying the cobalt 60."

The detective was listening but multitasking. First she was making certain they weren't being followed. Next she was alerted to a man running down the opposite sidewalk dodging pedestrians and trying to hail a cab. He had coal black hair and looked too damn familiar. She spared another glance in the rearview mirror. The arm raised to hail a cab looked like it had a colorful tattoo on the forearm. She checked her watch and noted the time and shook it off. They had a murder case to solve and that was her first priority. Tonight she allotted time and energy on being very forceful with Castle about his impromptu bartering.

A familiar strategy unfolded with the break in the case. Ryan and Esposito issued an unspoken challenge that their suspect would dish about the sabotage before their perp did. Castle knew he picked the tougher opponent, but he felt confident Beckett was itching to close this case. Each offered the best deal to the first one to talk. There was little doubt they knew who tampered with the cable and caused the death of their competitor.

The guys got their guy to talk first but Beckett got to break their suspect. The murderer gave a full confession. They could close the case and get the paperwork done easily as long as no other bodies got called in. She handed off the perp and returned to her desk to find a steamy bowl of clam chowder. She bit her lip and looked around to find its provider.

He gave her a radiant smile and handed over oyster crackers and a real spoon to replace the plastic utensil, "It's not from Boston, but it is really good."

* * *

><p>Mere hours from going home they got a call about a dead body. The smell of burnt flesh alerted the building occupants of a problem, and the smell still lingered when the detectives arrived. Castle's refined stomach waged war between the clam chowder and the pungent odor.<p>

Beckett swept the scene noticing details. Signs of a struggle. She did the same with the body. Everything was ordinary for a murder scene: a dead man with a gaping hole where part of his face should be. The bright red blood pool surrounded the disheveled figure. It was a glaring contrast to the deliberate weirdness. The small appliance used to iron clothing was sitting in the center of the man's chest and burned into his flesh.

"What do we have?" Beckett asked Perlmutter.

"Besides the hot iron causing this foul stench, there is a single GSW to the head for COD. Male in his 50's. Blood on the pants' legs indicate that both kneecaps were broken before death. Probable the iron was post-mortem because there are no burns on the victim's hands and no ligature marks. TOD before 1 to 3 hours ago."

"Actually I can narrow that down." Esposito offered. "He was seen coming in the building about 11 and the stench was first noticed about noon when a neighbor went out for lunch. Victim is Murphy Cookson, divorced but gets along well with ex wife, father of 2 grown kids."

"Ryan, what have you got?"

"Weapon, recently fired, found over here. Serial number was obliterated. Victim is a custom's officer. No complaints with neighbors."

Castle studied the body. "He really should try ironing the shirt before putting it on." The wrinkled shirt was a strong contrast to a man who even owned an iron. He waited for his partner's rebuke.

When Beckett didn't rise to the bait it betrayed how tense she was. "Esposito, was this guy coming from work or going to work?"

The question made three heads turn and look at her. She obviously had a theory and they wondered what it was. "Um. He works at the docks and came home early." He wanted to ask why but also wanted to figure it out on his own.

"Any leads on a suspect?"

"No doorman. No one saw anything suspicious. No signs of forced entry."

"Alright. You guys head back to the precinct and look for the usual: phone and financials especially gambling or a bookie that he used for betting on sporting events that may explain broken kneecaps. Castle and I will head to his place of employment."

Ryan asked quietly, "When do you want to talk to next of kin?"

She shot him a look. Yeah, she always did the notifications, but damn if they had to assume she _wanted _to do it?"Later. Let them have a few more hours before their world is turned upside down." She turned around to leave and Castle hurried behind.

"Beckett, what is it?"

"I'm worried Rook just got invited to the chess match with the Russians."


	12. 12 Iron Clad Confessions

_Previously: a dead customs inspector was found with a hot iron burning into his chest. Beckett fears the Russians from Fallon's investigation committed the murder. They still haven't talked about Castle using an aspect of Johanna's murder investigation as a bargaining chip._

"All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again." - JM Barrie

* * *

><p>Ryan and Esposito were in a good mood. Hell, even Iron Gates looked suspiciously happy. Castle hated being left out and whined immediately, "Tell me. What did I miss? Was it good? Was it weird?" Beckett and Castle returned from the docks were cautious about what they found. Just because a large tattooed Russian was hanging around it didn't mean Boris Yukes was there. This was not the right time to jump to conclusions.<p>

Esposito taunted, "You didn't miss anything. There is no drama without Jamison Rook, right bro?"

"Yeah, where else would Heat, a hot iron, and Polechenko all come together? Not merely in a novel because truth is stranger than fiction."

Beckett let her pissed off stare, normally reserved for perps, loose on the boys. They didn't deserve to be called men right now. They were having way too much fun crossing that line that kept Nikki Heat far away from the precinct. She folded her arms and stared.

Esposito dared to share, "A man came in to confess. Right now he is calling himself Polechinko and will only speak to Nikki Heat. From what I can tell he speaks Russian."

Beckett asserted, "So he is just another deranged fan of Richard Castle but knows nothing about our victim." Maybe saying it out loud would make it true.

"Hey, you better rethink calling my fans 'deranged.'" He challenged, knowing that _Kate_ was a fan.

"Right. I forgot _Ryan_ is a fan," she quipped back. No confession from Detective Beckett about her love affair with Mr. Storm would ever be whispered inside the 12th precinct.

Esposito defended his perp assessment since his taste in literature was safe, "This guy used our victim's name, made hissing sound as he pantomimed pressing an object against the man's chest. Then he waved his hand in front of this nose like something smelled."

"Yeah, something smells. Perps don't come in and offer to take murder raps." Beckett wasn't buying it.

Gates came out, "The only thing I smelled was gunshot residue. I trust his clothes were processed?" An affirmative nod came from Ryan so she turned to Beckett, "Just because you don't have to drag a confession out of them doesn't mean we can't close a case the easy way."

Castle supported his partner, "The case is too easy. We want to make sure it doesn't fall apart or bite us somehow."

"I know you can run wild with unsubstantiated theories, Mr. Castle, but let's stay focused on the task at hand. We have a foreign speaking suspect and Detective Beckett is fluent in Russian according to her personnel file."

Beckett nodded. "Is the big, tattooed Russian in lock up or waiting in the interrogation room?"

Ryan frowned. "Why would you assume he's big? Do you know this guy?"

Castle finally looked worried. Beckett sighed. Boris Yukes was probably going to say something during the interrogation that would allude to dinner the previous evening. She thought she knew what game was up, but she had to play it carefully. "Yeah, I know he likes to break kneecaps and he was seen on one occasion hanging around our victim at work. We've kept him waiting long enough."

"I'll bring him up and put him in room 1." Ryan volunteered and headed for the elevator.

Beckett nodded for Esposito to go with him. She didn't want the towering hulk that tried to intimidate her last night to send a message by trying to hurt her people. She turned to Gates, "I can conduct the interview in Russian, but there are local dialects that could make it difficult for me to understand him."

"Not confident in your language skills?" the captain challenged.

Beckett was running a careful game. She wanted to do the interview in Russian even though Boris spoke English well enough for their purposes. She wanted to obscure any references to Fallon's case so she risked irking Gates, "I know you don't speak another language, but certainly you've run into a Cuban not being able to communicate easily with a Mexican even though both speak Spanish?"

The pursed lips betrayed her annoyance at having a shortcoming voiced by a subordinate. "Do your best, but there will be no need for Mr. Castle to sit in on the interview."

Actually that played into Beckett's plan. She wanted him monitoring anyone's reaction in the observation room. "Yes sir." She went to her computer and pulled up background information. Her focus was deliberately averted as the guys escorted him past. It wasn't until Castle squeaked in surprise that Beckett hurriedly rose in case something was happening.

What was happening was Aleksandr Smee, not Boris Yukes, was escorted by in handcuffs. Gates caught their surprise and called them on it. "What's wrong?"

Beckett squared off hoping to stall. "This isn't the suspect described by the dead guy's coworker. I don't want to play into his game by giving him what he wants."

"And what exactly does he want?"

"An audience with Nikki Heat. Let's wait for an interpreter to come over." She was stalling until she got a hold of Fallon.

Gates was suspicious or stubborn, but either way she wasn't playing along. "No we will not wait. Get in there and take the man's confession. If he stalls then leave the room. That will show him we aren't playing games." _And neither am I _was the unspoken warning.

The detective pushed back because the stakes were high. "I've had an encounter with this guy at the prison. He speaks English just fine. Let the guys interview him." She hoped he would keep the disclosures to a minimum if she weren't the audience.

Gates and Beckett had a silent standoff. Beckett pushed harder, "As head detective, I want to test this guy's resolve. I am also trying to distance you from the fallout if this case isn't as simple as it seems."

The captain didn't want to cave, especially in front of Castle, but she did like what the detective said about distancing herself if something was amiss. "Very well, as _lead_ detective you would be allowing the suspect to dictate terms if you play along with this Nikki Heat fetish. Keep me informed." she returned to her windowed observation post.

Beckett and Castle got only a second before Ryan came up to them. "Castle has a call to make before he joins me in observation." She loved their wordless communication and his quick mind. He nodded and walked away to call Fallon.

She briefed Ryan on the strategy. "We're not playing his game. He speaks English quite well, but make him think you speak a little Russian. 'Nyet' for 'no,' 'da' for 'yes,' 'privyet' for 'hello,' 'molchi' for 'shut up' if he tries to speak in Russian. Press for details of the crime scene." She micromanaged Ryan and tried to ignore his bewilderment. He knew her well enough to read that something was up.

Beckett was trying desperately to keep this guy from thinking he could speak Russian and not be understood by anyone else. The interview was going to be recorded, and Gates would have it reviewed once whatever con they were playing became apparent. She may not know their end game but she knew that not playing along would throw them a curve and give her time to find her own strategy.

When the guys entered the interrogation room, Smee balked and started speaking in Russian. Esposito yelled at him to shut up in Spanish and Ryan got both their attention with a shrill whistle. He took control, "We know you speak English so quit playing games. If you dare ask for a fictitious character from a book we will toss you back downstairs in holding."

Aleksandr Smee looked from one to the other and then at the mirror. "I want to speak to that damn fine lady detective. It is important. Then I will write out my confession for the death of Murphy Cookson." He refused all other attempts to get him to talk.

Castle came back to the observation room and stood close to his partner. He shook his head and quietly shared, "Mark isn't available. They said he wouldn't return my call tonight."

That surprised Beckett and it was the second thing that did. First she knew that Boris Yukes was involved based on information from the victim's coworker. A different Russian mobster confessing was obviously a setup. She was almost certain Smee wasn't guilty because she got a glimpse of him on the other side of town. There was no way she wanted to be his alibi, so she needed time for forensics. Mark Fallon not being available at a critical juncture was huge. She hoped to God nothing had happened to him. So she had to fly solo and follow her instincts on this. "Castle, any helpful theories?"

"They think this guy will go inside and protect the kid or it is a test to rise in the ranks. I've heard going to prison is like going to school for illegal skills and contacts. Zhuk admitted he hadn't been with them long."

"Why confess to me? Why bring up Nikki Heat and the iron and jeopardize our deal unless they are trying to set me up to make me look incompetent…" She quieted down when the guys came into the observation area. She turned to them. "Tell him I won't be available until he starts writing. Remind him it's not complete until he signs it."

The guys needed more. "Beckett, how do you know this guy?"

Castle answered so she wouldn't have to mislead them. "When we went to the prison to check on Leo Thorn this guy tried to grab her ass and cop a feel. Or was it feel a cop? Either way I tried to be chivalrous and he made me squeal like a girl. Beckett came to my rescue and the guards backed her up."

That seemed to explain why she didn't want to be in the same room and give this guy more of a chance to rile Castle. Esposito got protective and gave a look to Castle like _"I'll pay him back for you."_

Beckett didn't need to see little drama that was about to play out. "Come on Castle. Let's go get a preliminary on forensics."

She led him back to the desk and bent over her paperwork, her face hidden by the curls. Her voice was so soft he almost didn't hear her confession of how much had recently changed. "If he tried that again you could flatten him with your newly acquired skills."

"Why detective, am I allowed to defend your honor?" He was asking her to confess so much more.

"I said you _could_ flatten him; I didn't say you should." Not now. Tonight Castle. "I need to figure out this tactic." She picked up the phone and called a friend (fan of Nikki's but she'd never admit that some parts of her life were easier because of her status with the author). "Hey Billy, guess who? …Yeah well, _she_ needs a favor. Prelim results on clothes for suspect by the name of Aleksandr Smee. …How can there be too much GSR? …OK, and what was there too little of? …Thanks. You're my buddy." She hung up, sat and pondered.

Finally she turned to the man she trusted with her life and more. "Which case do I prioritize? Neverland which may not lead to anything or keep Gates happy when I know this confession is bogus?"

He had only time for a quick and cryptic answer because the guys were heading her way. "Bigger picture. Short term loss for the greater good."

"Let Smee go." Beckett issued the declaration knowing the fallout.

"What?" and "No way." Came from the guys.

"He's not our guy." She dropped the bombshells on them "I saw Smee when we were on the way to get the suspects off the roof of Black Pawn. It was just before 11. I couldn't be sure it was him we should be able to get some surveillance footage to verify it. Even without that info, the preliminary report is too much gun shot residue and absolutely no blood showing up on his clothes."

They still stared in disbelief. In a huff she walked to the interrogation room. Leaving the door open for all to hear she asked Smee, "The elevator is broken. How did you get to the 7th floor unseen?"

He was surprised to finally see Detective Beckett but readily noted the 2 other detectives flanking her. "I went up the back stairs the delivery men use."

She turned to the guys who looked absolutely crestfallen. The elevator wasn't broken. She continued, "How many times did you pull the trigger today?"

"Once."

"What did you use to break his right kneecap?" Both kneecaps were broken and he didn't correct her. It was small stuff but it was adding up.

"I used to play soccer. I am good with my kicks."

"Did you kick him in the ribs or hurt him in any other way?"

He looked hesitant. "No more questions. I need to speak with you alone."

She motioned for him to come with her. He got up and hesitantly followed hopeful he was going somewhere private. She took him all the way down and outside the building with Esposito right beside her. She removed the cuffs. "Get out of here. Now."

"Nyet! Don't do this. I confess. I killed him. I am Tiger Lily." he wouldn't say more out in the open but he was pleading in his tone.

She turned and walked back in the building and pointed him out to the desk sergeant. "Nut case. Don't let him back in." On the way back up in the elevator she told her brother-in-arms, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." It was as much of a confession as she could offer for her bizarre behavior.

Back in the bullpen she was met by another bewildered coworker. "Gates wants you in her office immediately." The guys each did a gut check uncertain how much solidarity or self preservation was warranted.

Beckett met their eyes and marched into the office with her head held high.

Gates got right to the point. "Detective Beckett, did you just release a suspect who was willing to confess to murder?"

"Yes sir. He didn't do it. A better suspect is Boris Yukes."

"Is he the big, tattooed Russian you were expecting before you saw this Smee?"

Beckett took a moment before answering even though her hesitation would be seen as time to fabricate a falsehood. "Boris Yukes was seen at the docks. He runs a soup kitchen and has no legitimate reason to deal with a customs officer." She wanted hidden the fact that he was Russian Mafia for as long as possible.

Gate was relentless, "So you skillfully avoided being alone with the man who tried to grope you and set him free. Instead you want to accuse a man who runs a soup kitchen. Do you have a history with these men that is influencing your actions?"

That did sound messed up. She worded a reply carefully, "I let a man go free because there are other suspects to pursue."

"History with these men?" She didn't answer and Gates was going to make her go on record.

Recent history with Gates was piling up. "Nothing to report."

"Regardless, I think your judgment is clouded and you need to go home so you can be here in the morning with a clear head. I want Detective Ryan to be lead detective on this case because of his experience with narcotics smuggling. Dismissed."

Beckett paused just long enough to collect her jacket and her writer. Once she had both she didn't look back at her fellow detectives. She had utter and complete faith they'd get the right guy. It was probably better she couldn't lead them through the investigation.

Outside she took a deep breath and scanned to see it they were being watched. Seeing nothing suspicious she spared a moment to consider the man who had her back and was literally at her back. She worried about loosing him, loosing what they had, and what they were becoming. Words were his strength and her weakness so she had to find ways to show Mr. Storm what she thought. That confession might come into play later, but now she needed to get them somewhere to regroup.

Reading her mind he offered, "The guest room is still yours. I'll cook while we will wait for Fallon to call."

They didn't have to wait long for the call; they did have to wait on dinner. Rick led the way to the office and put the senior agent on the speaker of the disposable phone. He shrugged off his jacket and she kicked off her shoes. They were surprised to hear Bigtree's voice.

"Why are you contacting us instead of Fallon? Is he OK?" was Beckett's first question.

Bigtree was calm, "He's fine. I am conducting this briefing for reasons that will become clear. The first confession is that I am solely responsible for withholding information from you."

The sat down together on the couch and Castle groaned. In stories that was great for tension, in real life it meant a screw up. He waited with his partner for the revelations.

Bigtree confirmed, "Aleksandr Smee is an undercover agent. That's how we knew about the kid Dmitry's call to Ivan Zhuks and the details of your meeting at the Borscht diner."

"Why withhold that information?" She demanded. She would have played it very differently knowing he was a good guy.

"First because it is highly classified and second I didn't want you to play it any different from your instincts. Things happened very suddenly today. It was my call and I regret how it played out with the death of Cookson. For the record Agent Fallon advised for full disclosure."

Now it was Beckett's turn to spin theory, "Smee was trying to confess to murder he didn't commit because he needed a way out?"

"No, his cover is intact but they wanted to test him and make him threaten you. It used to be they'd have a new recruit kill a guy but we got too good at faking deaths. Now they have a pro do the killing and make the newbie take the blame. You will have to re-arrest him tomorrow. Sorry if that makes you look inept at your job."

Beckett confessed, "I'm not lead detective on this case anymore since I cut him loose. I saw Smee on the street and basically gave him an alibi for the time of death."

"Shit. No, doesn't matter. The Russians don't know that."

"But my guys do. I never let myself be alone with him so he couldn't betray the clandestine connection. My plan was to disrupt their game, remove the low end players and prove to Zhuk he has to deal with me."

"Ok, we'll get a new strategy going. Meanwhile we think Ivan Zhuk ordered the death the customs officer because of the shipment that is coming in. We're watching to see who replaces him or whether they are just trying to overwork them so something can slip something through."

The detective was putting pieces together, "Tiger Lily is Smee's code name? Where did that come from?"

Castle guessed correctly, "He has a little tiger tattoo. Lil tiger. Tiger lily or the Indian who defends Peter Pan from the Pirates."

"Mr. Castle, if you ever want a job as an analyst, let me know. Meanwhile, one last confession. Ivan the terrible has a plan to do something about you, detective, and we don't know what it is. It might be wise to take a few vacation days until we sort things out."

It would look bad to Ryan and Esposito, but that would be worth it to keep the fallout from following her into the precinct. "OK. If I need to I will."

"Tomorrow at lunchtime have Mr. Castle call the contact number. Then look for a yellow cab, taxi number 86329. Your driver will be a familiar face who drove you to the gala. He'll make sure you aren't followed and get you somewhere to talk with Agent Fallon. Until next time, Goodnight."

Castle ended the connection and waited for his partner. Whether it was the undercover case interfering with her real job, his impromptu stunt to use Johanna's murder as a bargaining chip, or their enforced proximity she had a number of difficult discussions to choose from.

The woman of action slid _behind_ him on the couch. She stopped him when he started to turn.

Her hands touched his shoulders and once again started to massage his neck. "Kate, what are you doing?" it was an asinine question but his befuddled brain was melting at her touch.

"After 3 days of physical training I bet your sore muscles are screaming from sitting in a chair most of the day." She began kneading his shoulders with her strong hands.

"I, um… yeah. What I mean is…"

She chuckled at her effect on him. "I've found a new threat to keep you quiet. If you talk I stop."

He purred with understanding. She was hiding a vulnerability by staying away from his probing eyes.

Her fingers worked his muscles freeing the knots he ignored all day. The touch was also freeing inhibitions. "Rick, listen carefully because _none_ of these topics are up for discussion. The guys are all I care about at work so cross my professional reputation off your list of worries."

She moved back up to his shoulders and leaned slightly closer as he moaned in appreciation and acknowledgement. "What you did that pissed me off at the diner was 'shushing' me so you could negotiate with the men. If you ever sideline me like that again I won't forgive you." She withdrew her hands and let stillness hang over them.

Mindful he wasn't allowed to speak he hung his head in genuine regret of employing such a condescending tactic on her. He drew in a relieved breath when she resumed her contact. This time her hands slowed to a gentle caress more befitting lovers than partners.

It was a day for confessions and it was time for hers. She leaned into him to match her intimate touch with a whisper to his ear. "Now, about bargaining with my mother's murder…" Last night she spent hours agonizing over the implications. She reached a verdict and it was time to share it.

His shudder was involuntary and she let the torture of anticipation contrast with her fingertip patterns she traced as she draped herself over his back to reach his chest. "I hate that her murder is never far from _your_ thoughts; I love that you found a way to pursue a lead. It is a brilliant move that you snuck it into federal records and gave her investigation a wider platform. And even though we didn't plan this I am ok with it because you weren't going behind my back like when you investigated the stab wounds." She gave him a warm embrace to emphasize her words.

Rick was going schizophrenic. This kind of contact was a first not prompted by a veil of undercover work. The electricity was buzzing through his body and heat flushed every where she touched even through clothing. His mind was ignoring the warnings of hiding things from her and finding salvation in the words that '_none of these topics are up for discussion.'_ He simply returned her hug by pulling her arms tighter around him. It was enough for now. His confession would have to wait for another day.


	13. 13 Killer Plan

"Don't waste fairy dust on me." - JM Barrie

Friday Morning

* * *

><p>Déjà vu all over again. Yesterday Detective Beckett arrived and was immediately summoned to the captain's office. Then it had been questions about her court appearance that was cancelled and open cases. Yesterday's office encounter closed with Gates yanking her authority as lead detective.<p>

Today was a new day even though it started the same way. Gates bellowed from her office as soon as the duo arrived. On any other day someone might have smirked at the partners arriving for work together, but today was not destined to be just another ordinary day. "_Mister_ Castle and _Detective _Beckett, in my office, now!"

The new captain stood with unmasked fury on her face. Castle would have described her with steam coming out of her ears but the cliché would have cheapened the raw venom oozing from every orifice. She started ranting as soon as the door was closed. "I used to work IAB so that is why I am a by-the-book cop. The last thing I ever expected was my precinct coming under investigation."

The writer gave an involuntary glance at his partner but easily chose silence as he listened to the litany of accusations.

"I won't waste time recalling places you are supposed to be that no one can confirm. I'll let you explain your actions with releasing a suspect in a formal statement. What I want you to repeat to my face is that there is no history with these men." As Gates parroted their conversation from yesterday she held up a photo of them from the Batva diner showing Boris Yukes towering over Beckett in a threatening manner. In the background was Aleksandr Smee guarding the door.

The view was from the back of the restaurant from Zhuk's table. She'd been set up.

Gates was relentless, "And they say a picture is worth a thousand words, Mr. Castle, but you've managed to paint quite a picture with your words." She hit the play button: "_Recording this is not in our best interest. This isn't about bribing an officer but reaching an agreement for mutual benefit. Let's get down to business." _

It was Castle's voice right after Yukes asked if Beckett was wearing a wire. He hated the irony. Well, at least now they knew how Zhuk was coming after them. The partners had a silent conversation that left Gates even more enraged. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Beckett spoke for them both, "Things are not always what they seem." It was lame but so much better than letting Castle dig the hole deeper.

"They damn well better not be or you are ending a promising career. No matter what kind of spin your writer will try to put on this, it is a black mark that kills your chances for advancement." She shook her head in sorrow that her protégé was now a lost cause.

Beckett never wanted mentoring from this captain - an ambitious woman who placed politics before justice. But she was wise enough to know they needed to salvage a working relationship. "You already know I have my own unrelenting criteria when it comes to good versus evil." That was as much justification as she could offer right now.

"You lied to me. Be careful that you don't lie to Internal Affairs. That's all the advice I can offer you. Please report to interrogation room 1. I'll escort Mr. Castle to interrogation room 2."

"No sir." Beckett said with ice in her tone. "Mr. Castle will not answer any questions or make any statement without his attorney present." At least she could get him out of here to meet with Fallon.

"I believe from my research that Detective Beckett has a right to private counsel before being questioned by IAB. If that is correct, I'd like to insist that she accept one since her reputation greatly reflects on the financial interests of Black Pawn."

Only with her eyes could she thank Castle for road blocking Gates without looking like it was her idea.

The former IAB officer was aghast. "That only makes you look guilty! You know how cops view lawyers." Finally she recollected her position as captain and a belated idea of looking after her own people instead of the interests of her former colleagues. "Of course that is your right, but I will have to put you on administrative leave until these interviews are concluded. You have until 5pm Monday to report to IAB.

They stepped outside the office and met the eyes of Ryan and Esposito. They would forgive her once they knew, but the subterfuge was killing her. "Good luck with the case," she offered.

Esposito made his own offer, "Dr. Parish is going to be really scary to deal with until she talks to you. Maybe you could help out your boys by running interference?"

Beckett grabbed at the lifeline. They would communicate through Lanie. She'd push at the meeting with Fallon for surveillance details on Yukes so she could help out her boys with details to nail him. "Will do."

Castle made quick work of calling for their taxi much earlier than planned. He got off the phone and looked at the silence between his closest friends. He had to throw them a bone. "Hey guys don't worry. Heat rises even in Never Neverland." He shot them a wink and turned towards his partner. "I need coffee. Let's mix it up and try a new flavor." He guided her out of the precinct like it was just another ordinary day.

They waited a few minutes before they spotted their taxi pulling up. A detective would note that their driver was a rare clean-cut, all-American male with eyes that constantly scanned the surroundings. A casual observer would note they never told the cabbie where they were going. A friend would note Kate rested her head on Rick's shoulder.

The driver kept quiet to focus on making sure they weren't followed. Beckett kept quiet trying to think of things to help the guys make their case without blowing her cover. Castle kept quiet pondering the ethical fallout from his escalation as they worked this case.

It was supposed to be a simple offer extended to Beckett's parolee. He kept upping the ante until this black cloud resulted. Upping the ante was fine in poker, but somehow he ended up betting Beckett's chips instead of his own. He wanted to desperately make things right, but there were just a few cards left to play. Even if they let him go 'all in' he would still drag this incredible woman curled into his side through the mess with him.

The problem was she wouldn't care. Her whole interest now was forcing the sting on the arson investigator from the warehouse fire in her mother's case. Rick was astounded last night at how much she tried to show her appreciation for his creative avenue of investigation. He wouldn't settle for her gratitude when he wanted her heart. (But damn that woman was hard to resist when she turned on the charm. The feeling of her snuggled behind him on the couch; her breasts pressed into his back while she caressed his chest… He was a blue, wrinkled prune by the time he got out of the shower.)

The driver, Agent Drum, finally spoke, "You're here. 3rd floor, suite 5: Collaborative Solutions for National Unity, A Think-Tank for World Peace Starts at Home."

Castle snorted at the verbose and oblique front for Homeland Security operations. He reached in his wallet and laughed as he noticed the fare being twice what it should. "I should call and report you for robbery given the round about way you got us here." He knew it was to make sure they weren't followed, but it was fun to tease the guy.

Beckett hauled him out of the cab and spoke for the first time since leaving the precinct. "You said something about coffee. You didn't make him stop for coffee. You're slipping, Castle."

He looked at his partner half scared. Coffee was serious business between them and she only had one cup this morning as they ate their pancakes together. "My bad," he admitted using the slang saying he picked up from the urban building climbers.

She kept a hold of the hand she pulled him out of the cab with and dragged him inside. She had seen the advertising on the outside of the building and redirected him when he headed to the elevators. Rick was focused today and Kate was being playful. She stopped them in front of a coffee cart.

"Everything _always_ seems to work out for you, doesn't it Ricky?" She used his first name hoping no one would recognize him.

Those green eyes arrested him and he gave it right back to her. "I know I am a lucky man, Katie."

She paid for 2 coffees and they entered the lift that took them up to play their deadly game.

Agent Mark Fallon and Aleksandr Smee stood chatting like old friends when they entered the windowless conference room. Fallon did the honors, "Detective Kate Beckett and writer Richard Castle, let me introduce Alex Huron, a damn fine operative. Huron, these are 2 of the most amazing people I've ever met."

Agent Huron grabbed Castle's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Damn I've been dying to meet you guys officially."

"It's always nice to meet a fan."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, your books are good, but to meet a man who disarmed a dirty bomb with 1 second remaining is legendary. Personally I'd have been kissing a beautiful woman senseless." With that he dropped Castle's hand and turned to face the detective. He waited for her move, hoping for a handshake, prepared to cover his genitalia.

She did neither. "Where did you learn your Russian?"

"Berlin. You?"

"Grandma's house."

He waited knowing the penalty was unpaid for the cheap shots her took at her sexually. "Tell me how to make amends."

"Get me the surveillance timeline to nail Boris Yukes for murder so I can get it to my detectives."

He offered his hand to seal the deal and she shook on it.

With that out of the way she turned back to Fallon. "Are you aware of events at the 12th this morning?"

"Yes. Thompson from 1PP alerted me to an IAB investigation. We can stop the charade anytime, Detective Beckett."

She turned to her partner, waiting for his protest, knowing he liked his adventures.

He stayed resolutely quiet. If she were going to push this because of Johanna's murder, he wasn't going to be her patsy. She'd have to take responsibility for jumping in the rabbit hole. Whatever responsibility he carried for bringing them to this point, she could end it with a nod.

With his silence Beckett quickly changed tactics. She looked back at Fallon and played his weakness to her advantage. "I know you don't want to give up on this, but I don't have any ideas on how to proceed." In their previous encounter Fallon was prepared to go much further than she. She was betting he'd push.

The Homeland Security agent let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "We need some leverage. Any suggestions?" Everyone turned to the story teller and waited expectantly.

Castle sighed. There were multiple ways to dial up the tension on Zhuk. He went with the grandest scheme first, "Go all in. I need to do a little theatrical research for my book and comrade Smee is a good _target_. If he's dead he has a much better 'out' than being arrested, Beckett is in a stronger position dealing with Ivan the terrible, and the 12th precinct will have no choice but to focus on Yukes." He waited for everyone to dissect it from their perspective and according to their agenda.

Fallon: "It's a hell of a big operation to pull off."

Beckett countered, "You said you were experienced at faking deaths. My only concern is that Castle shouldn't be the shooter."

Smee/Huron's opinion counted since he was the target, "It's believable that Castle would do anything to protect his woman. My problem is that it kills, literally, any future work I could do undercover with the Russian mafia."

Every paused. These were only perfunctory objections voiced. Were they really planning on Richard Castle shooting Aleksandr Smee? It was turning out to be an interesting day and it wasn't even noon. The would-be murderer joked, "Any requests for your last meal?"

Huron looked at Fallon, "Last supper? Is that enough time to pay the 30 pieces of silver?"

"I still have to get this approved. Then there is a location to scout, a diversion for local police to plan, a medical examiner or paramedics to brief in, a firearm to fill with blanks, and fake blood to rig. Probably not until tomorrow and even that would be a quick consensus for the powers that be."

He turned to Castle and Beckett. "Are you sure? Your reputations will be crap until we end the charade and that may not be until the parole hearing 2 weeks from now. Rick, you have family. Kate, you are under scrutiny from a new captain. I know I am no-holds barred when it comes to going after terrorist so other don't have their loved ones ripped away. I don't want to drag either of you down to my level of moral ambiguity."

Beckett answered for both, "I'm not pointing my gun at you this time around so I think we're good."

Agent Huron looked curious at the unspoken history. Castle made light of it, "This time around I'll be pointing the gun. It's only fair to spread the love." He turned to Fallon. "What do I need to do to get ready? I've been arrested for murder and I've shot someone, but I've never shot someone and then been arrested for murder."

Beckett sighed at their twisted history. "We need to make you unremarkable." Richard Castle was anything but ordinary. His understated wealth was echoed in the red pin stripes of his shirt and custom tailoring of his jacket. His tall stature, good looks and outgoing personality ensured he stood out in a crowd. "I'll put you in jeans, you'll buy a black hooded jacket someplace like Wal-Mart. If we really want to take it to another level we let Martha do a theatrical makeup job on you."

"Damn it's nice working with pros. Usually I'd be spending an hour or two working out such details," the agents nodded.

The detective continued, "Hopefully we can keep anyone from recognizing you. Just in case we need an alibi. Whip out your credit card, Castle."

"Oooh. Am I buying an alibi? I want a good one. I can afford it." He hoped his joking was making this easier for Beckett. It was an upside down way for her to think. He handed over the black American Express card.

She got a key off her key ring and handed it over with his credit card. "Red Ferrari. Vanity plate: ROOKY. Make sure the driver fills it up with gas just about the time of the shooting. We'll go to a shooting range to explain gunshot residue. Don't plan on using fake blood. My guys will go over the scene with a black light."

Huron balked, "It will be out of their jurisdiction. They have no reason to investigate."

The other 3 stared at him like he sprouted Dumbo-the-elephant ears. Beckett clarified, "My captain thinks you are still a suspect in the Cookson shooting. If they don't go over the crime scene, pester the investigating officers and try to get jurisdiction of the body it will be a cold day in hell. Since it is just another cold winter day in NYC, the details need to be perfect."

Castle wondered aloud, "Do we really need to deceive them? Can't we let them figure out it's bogus because they really can't believe I'd shoot somebody in cold blood."

"They won't believe you'd shoot someone in cold blood, so they will try everything in their power to exonerate you. If they figure out it isn't real they will shout if from rooftops even if Gates doesn't want to believe them. Let's throw a few roadblocks in the investigation just in case we need them." She had to protect her boys even as she reassured her partner in crime. She ran her hands up and down his arms and started to lean into him.

Rick trapped her hands. She was trying to show gratitude for the play to go after Rod Halstead. Rick didn't want gratitude; he didn't want play acting, and he didn't want her bolting. He wanted unconditional and everlasting love.

Fallon cleared his throat, "I've got mobile silent alarms for you guys." He handed the writer a pen and the lady a decorative clip to put on a belt or purse. "If shit gets out of hand press it twice in rapid succession to activate it. It will bring all available fire power to bear as soon as possible." He got nods of understanding.

No one wanted to dwell on the possible need for them. They spent the next hour coming up with other more likely plans to gain leverage over Zhuk. With the murder of the custom officer we need to be ready to move. "Why don't you two go grab some lunch and get your shopping out of the way? I'll call with an update when I know more."

It was just before noon. They walked around pretending not to have a care in the world. Yesterday they sat in the bullpen eating clam chowder. Tomorrow they could be suspects waiting for interrogation. "What happens, Rick, after the shooting and all the days after that? Write the next chapter for me."

He put his hand at her back. He would always have her back. She was really asking about when this case was over and what changes were permanent. Wasn't he the one who pushed and she was the one who never talked about them? They wondered into a local eatery and squished into a table with noise and bustle giving them privacy.

He ordered their comfort food with fries. When she brushed her knees against him he saw her nudge as a reminder. His deep ocean blue eyes set the stage, "to quote Sir Barrie: 'If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colors suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colors become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire.'"

He continued with his own words, "In this oasis of fantasy there was a mermaid…"

Beckett interrupted, "Really? You're going to weave a tale about a topless woman with a tail in a crowded public venue? If you're hoping I'll hit you and make you to stop only so you can revisit the story next time I'm ready to take a hot, steamy shower…"

Normally seriousness went against his nature, but this was important. "I chose a mermaid as a symbolic tribute to the characters in Neverland. Yes the creatures are sensual and alluring. This one is also chaste with the long tendrils of dark and luxurious hair covering her feminine attributes. There are no days in the murky underwater world, only the distant ticking of a clock that haunts all who hear it. Whenever she is in need of respite she walks among mere men who are captivated by her green eyes and ethereal beauty. Rather than be adored as a goddess the rest of her days, she honors who she was born to be, and returns to swim in the deep waters."


	14. 14 Who Is This Man

"Pan, who and what are thou?

I'm youth, I'm joy…

I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg." JM Barrie

* * *

><p>Beckett smacked Castle. Hard.<p>

"Ow! What was that for?" he whined, but not without cause. They were on the couch in the loft. Beckett was sprawled sideways with a cloth binder in her hands as she scribbled notes on the pad of paper. Certainly he was innocent of everything but physical contact she initiated.

She glared at him. Where was that famous unspoken connection that always knew what the other was thinking? "I've been kicked out of the precinct until I meet with IAB. I'm sitting with my legs draped over a handsome rogue in his multimillion dollar loft and I'm still doing paperwork! You know how much I hate paperwork and now I have to do extra."

He ignored the 'handsome rogue' bait. "So it's my fault you're doing paperwork instead of something more fun?" he wiggled his eyebrows knowing she didn't mean to betray her sexual frustration. She wanted to canoodle with him and distract them both from the tense moments that were coming. Being together outside of the precinct was enough of a measured step down the right path.

She didn't like this side of Castle and she blamed whatever part of him created Derrick Storm. "The wheels of justice are slow. Hopefully all this time and effort will result in a trial and conviction. Whenever that day comes, I'll need these notes so my testimony is solid." She had gotten his attention with the smack, now she needed to keep his focus right where she wanted it. She pulled his wrist up to her lips and sucked on his pulse.

God he was going to lose all resolve right here and now and the fire her lips spread through his body. He had to joust with words, "My thimble runneth over."

She raised her hand to smack him again, but he didn't shrink. "Go ahead. I can take it. I'm tough."

She shook her head at his buff posturing. Her smile lasted until the burner phone rang.

Fallon called and Beckett was moving immediately. They had spent all morning with him and Agent Huron going over strategies and information. Since Smee/Huron was being sidelined they needed different ways to get intel. Other agents were investigating cargo manifests and property holdings.

She asked a few questions as pulled on her boots and gave him her call sign and tossed out a few code words that would be easy for her and Rick to use, then hung up. When they came back from the briefing the detective changed in a provocative outfit either to peak Derrick Storm's interest or in case her Russian side needed to come out and play. She knew she might have to use her sexuality as a distraction.

Kate wondered if she was loosing her edge since Rick seemingly built up his immunity to her. She evaluated Castle as she briefed him, "Fallon wants us to pop in on Zhuk unexpectedly to see if we can rattle him. We're supposed to use your temper as the reason to track him down at this warehouse. You can threaten Smee, but the shooting has **not** been approved so leave yourself an escape clause for not following through. It's the other plan we worked out this afternoon."

He shrugged. Shooting Smee was only one way to get under Zhuk's skin. Smee/Huron liked this plan better. Last resort was messing with the kid in prison. Of all the options, Castle liked this one least of all. He was regretting the stakes that made this necessary and cursing the need to play these games.

A different side of Richard Castle peeked through. He was dressed in black tonight. Not a sophisticated black pair of dress slacks and button shirt, but distressed black jeans and sweater that clung to his physique. Without the quips and jokes the macabre settled around him. His dark hair and large frame carried a heaviness that came out in the set of his jaw and his piercing eyes became the color of ice. A large ruby ring was the only other color on his person.

He wondered if the woman before him would give him a second glance if they were to meet on the street like this. Boots covered tight leather pants and a green lace top left just enough to the imagination. Her hair was wild and loose and she looked sexy as hell.

Answering the unspoken question she pulled him close, leaning into him, trying not to give into the temptations of desire and demands of their bodies.

His arms wrapped around her even as his words uncoiled her tension. "I know this bothers you. I should be fussing over you as we head out to confront the seedy underbelly of crime. You never willingly take second seat, and you've never willingly let me stand in front of you. I know you trust me, but you need to _trust_ me."

"I trust us." she abruptly pulled his head down and gave him a sensual but brief taste of her lips. "If all goes well we'll celebrate together." He wanted her covered so he helped her into the black leather jacket.

The gesture was effective and both refocused on the drama. They both holstered their weapons and she grabbed a small radio. After checking that each had their panic alarms on them, they left the sanctuary of the loft. Rick had them zipping through traffic in no time. "Did Fallon say who was at the warehouse?"

"Think in tactical terms, Castle. Not just who but how many."

He pushed back, "Think in personal terms, not unemotional ones." His strengths were different than hers, but she needed to trust in them and not _act_ out the cover story. She needed to _believe_.

"OK, _Rick, _Fallon said Zhuk, his faithful dog - Boris and 2 thugs were there. They've never been to this storage facility before and he didn't know it had any connection to them. That's why the urgency on confronting him. Our radiation badges are hidden but they will still record residual levels."

He shot her a look. She was in cop mode and he needed her in bad-ass, pissed-off woman but under the thumb of a man. "The feds are in place. If we need the tribe to do an ambush all we have to do is push the panic buttons. Otherwise remember I'm in charge." That should get her in the right mindset.

"What?" she sputtered. "Look damn it. Don't think 3 days of posturing makes you Derrick Storm. If you get cocky you'll get hurt. If you keep thinking like that I'll be the one hurting you. We tag team Zhuk and try… Oh."

Belatedly she realized he was trying to goad her into character. This wasn't an interrogation where she could walk out the door when she needed a minute to regroup.

"Kate, seriously, you did get mad at me last time for role playing as a dominate male. This time the plan is to be possessive. You helped script this and know what's coming. I don't intend to demean you or our relationship, but it's going to be in the back of my mind that the Neanderthal act will come between us."

She hated doing this to him - making him over think it and second guess his instincts. He was brilliant at dissecting character and she was tying his hands and taking away his most potent strength because she was rigid. "No holding back, Rick. You play this guy however you need to. Remember, I believe in us."

He downshifted, more than the car, and found her hand for a quick squeeze.

They zipped to a halt so close to the scum posted at the door he back up already intimidated. Castle sauntered around the back of the speedster to open the car door for his lady. As she stood she slid her body up his brushing him in all the right (wrong) places. His growl was proof of his distracted focus as Beckett addressed the guard in Russian. "Является Иван внутри? Является ли Борис с ним?" _(Is Ivan inside? Is Boris with him?)_

The low life thug with limited mental facilities was uncertain what to do. He was told to expect 2 Middle Eastern men with a briefcase and instead there was a man and a hooker. He shrugged. Castle grabbed Beckett's arm and hauled her inside. The common dirt bag was more interested in the flashy red car.

They navigated through the semi-darkness to the rear of the facility towards the bright light. They wound around through numerous steel cargo containers and large crates of medical equipment, supplies and _beds? _They hoped to give the detectors as much exposure as possible. The sounds of their approach were masked by the distant hum of cooling units keeping perishables safe. Another thug stood outside the office door. Beckett managed to flash her badge at him even as Castle roughly pulled her behind him into the room. The guard followed them uncertain what to do.

Boris Yukes immediately pulled his gun and pointed it at Castle but he ignored him. Glaring at Ivan Zhuk he demanded "Where's Smee?"

Zhuk took in the grip he had on his woman and the contorted rage on the big man's face. Mr. Castle was scanning the room with fury.

In calming tone he replied, "As you can see, he is not here. You should not be here so Mr. Yukes will see you safely outside." He was never more sinister than when polite.

Richard narrowed his icy gaze to evaluate the man's resolve. In a huff he dropped his detective's arm and turned on Boris. "Put the god dammed gun away."

"I not take orders from you."

Richard flexed his hand seeming barely seeming to control anger waiting to be unleashed. "If we wanted a damned war she's got a precinct full of armed men to call in."

"Perhaps she no longer has that authority," Mr. Zhuk smoothly challenged.

Beckett started to bitch at him, "You asshole, if you think…" but Castle cut her off: "Wait your turn."

He turned back to Zhuk, "Know this: the clock is ticking. In a few seconds her radio is going to squawk and she needs to give a status report unless you want this place swarming with cops. That should be proof enough your half assed set up wasn't worth a shit."

Zhuk was ready to dial down the tensions. They hadn't come in with guns drawn so he motioned for the guard to return to his post and Yukes to put his gun away. He ignored the childish grumbling from his right hand man.

A scratchy disembodied voice leaked into the room. "Dispatch to 1 Lincoln 40, status report? Over." The voice represented a contingent of Homeland Security Agents instead of NYPD, but they didn't know that.

She slowly opened her jacket to show the police radio. Carefully pulling it out she radioed in, "This is 1 Lincoln 40, Standby."

She waited for Castle to hint which response to transmit. She thought the initial dangerous phase was over and they could safely exit, but he needed to concur.

He kept his mind on an image of Alexis's face when he told her to leave town and she couldn't call her boyfriend during the last threat of a dirty bomb. The horror of that moment was more than enough to sustain the hatred underpinning the simple words, "Tick tock. Tick Tock."

Zhuk's poker face wasn't worth a shit. "Perhaps I over reacted when I sent your detective the message that her services were no longer needed."

"My Darling, save the gnashing of crocodile teeth for another time." Castle desperately wanted to sneak a peek at Beckett's face, but instead listened for the tone of her voice.

"1 Lincoln 40, clear for 5." Yep, she was pissed off. That was good for the character portrayal.

Castle sneered, "Where's that slimy bastard hiding?"

Boris started to answer but Zhuk cut him off, "Exactly what do you want with Aleksandr?"

"He's going to beg for forgiveness or I'm going to kill him."

Boris snorted like that was the last thing that was going to happen. Zhuk merely raised an eyebrow.

Castle's stomach clenched at this part, "You'll answer to Beckett in a minute for reneging on our deal. But first I warn you that any man that messes with this woman answers to me. She's mine! I pimp her out on the streets as a detective so I can write about it. But she's _exclusively_ mine. Your little piss ant crossed the line." He turned around and held out his hand waiting for her to give him what he wanted.

What she wanted was to kick some ass but this was a careful dance that was supposed to get her Halstead on a skewer over a fire. She'd endure for that kind of payoff. Wordlessly Beckett handed him her burner phone, recently altered just for this moment.

He turned away from her to play Agent Huron's newly recorded message as Smee and his nasty taunt: "_You are nothing but a whore to be with such an old geezer. I'll tie you spread eagle and show you what a real man can do. Then I'll break your ankles so you'll never be able to advertise your skills by wearing heels ever again."_

Zhuk swallowed hard and even Boris flinched on hearing that. The rage and fury gave Castle more intimidation than the other big man in the room despite his tattoos, crooked nose and bulging biceps.

Castle lassoed the real target while the tension was high, "I'll use different words to make sure you understand. She still works as a detective because writing about her is my bread and butter. If you mess with the detective, you mess with my money. Fortunately our lawyers can get around any silly charges that might come our way. It's doubtful anything ever will because the NYPD loves the good publicity they get from us. A lot of sins are forgiven for a favored son." The not so veiled threat moved from Smee to Zhuk.

_Her_ voice startled everyone. So much had been said about her but little was said by her, until now. "I want more than an apology."

"Aleksandr has not called in. I assumed he was still in police custody." Ivan Zhuk was reduced to doing damage control. His instincts were justified in sending Smee away. Now the pervert was hiding.

"No, I acted in good faith and got him out. Now you're going to act in good faith and keep up your end of the bargain."

"We no longer need your services," he repeated.

"You will once I pull financial records on the parole board members. Whoever you bribed is too inexperienced to hide the money well. Or I can take my revenge directly on the boy you are desperate to protect.

Slight sag of the shoulders gave him away that they had successfully bribed a member of the decision committee. Ivan didn't need this distraction as such a critical stage of the deal he was on the cusp of closing. Yet family came first and the godson was family. "Fine. We'll use this space. Give me time to get it emptied of the critical imports and make sure the insurance is up to date. Then we'll see what kind of mishap your fireman can help me with."

He gave in way too easy so Beckett pressed out of pure instinct. "No." This isn't the right jurisdiction." She had a map folded inside her leather jacket but pretended otherwise. I'll meet you tomorrow with a map and we'll choose the location together."

"Fine, tomorrow." He raised his voice calling to the guard, "Nikko, these 2 are leaving. Be a good man and see them _safely_ to the door."

Castle tossed the burner phone with the horrific recording on the desk. "We'll be in touch. Tell Smee I'm looking for him." He pushed Beckett out the room and kept a hand on each of her shoulders, staying at her back as they followed their guide.

Outside but still under the watchful eyes of 2 thugs Castle opened the car door for Beckett and gently shut it after she folded her sexy body inside. He hopped in the driver's seat and revved the engine for effect before zooming out of the lot and to the prearranged location.

They stayed hyper vigilant, Castle as driver and Beckett as spotter making sure they weren't followed. "All clear?" he asked.

"Yeah." She knew they had a few minutes before Fallon arrived from his surveillance point at the warehouse and made it to the underground parking garage. She spent the time reviewing details in her head. Castle spent the time reviewing her.

"Creepy." The soft voice was barely audible.

He couldn't tell so he asked, "Me for staring now, me for playacting, or them?"

"Us. Like that. Rick, you were creepy good at playing that role and I was stunned into silence. I want this chance to go after Halstead but I am damn glad this is sanctioned. Those two people we became in there were…" her voice trailed off and she merely shook her head. Words failed her. Rick was the eloquent one.

This is where Rick's edge as a writer pushed into real life. He saw the changes in the Beckett character as a result of this case. She put her mother's case aside, and then got hopeful when he tossed it onto the table as a bargaining chip. She was so off kilter with IAB at work, the undercover case, and an avenue to pursue Johanna's investigation that it changed her. It manifested in her permission to be loose around him verbally, emotionally and physically. With regret his character responded by keeping some distance and being controlled.

"I tried to warn you that the cave man act…"

"Not that. It's fine."

"You're placating me. How can anyone hear that I 'pimp you out' and you're my 'bread and butter' without taking offense? Especially a modern, strong brilliant woman such as yourself."

"If you told me before hand you were going to say those things I would have told you not to because I'd bust a gut laughing."

She wasn't laughing and she wasn't closing down. "What is it, Kate? Tell me."

"I just didn't expect you to be so good at everything."

Was that a compliment or slight? He stayed quiet wanting to hear more.

A hesitant voice admitted, "I miss Peter Pan."


	15. 15 Going Ballistic

"These are my last words. We hope our sons will die like English gentlemen." - Wendy in Peter Pan

* * *

><p><strong>Russians at the warehouse - 6 Hours To Go<strong>

Pressure - Ivan Zhuk thrived on it. Lesser men would be daunted by the logistics of this historic undertaking, but working out the puzzle pieces is what set him apart. Maybe he and the author were indeed alike: both plotting the next move and turning the twists to advantage. It was perhaps fitting that Richard Castle was responsible for this unplanned maneuver. His police woman had no legitimate way to know about this facility so it meant he was compromised. Lesser men would flinch and immediately roust his men to use the cover of darkness removing crates and boxes of steel secrets. Not him. It was probably a wise precaution since his Middle Eastern visitors might have been followed. It would work out. He could be back on schedule in a mere 6 hours.

He preferred the shell game. Move so much in and out the enemy had little chance to follow all the pieces. The one small crate that mattered would get lost in the shuffle. His box of refrigerated red death was all that mattered. It was labeled caviar. Perhaps like the eggs of fish the seeds of destruction contained within were indeed symbolic.

**The loft at 8 AM**

The smell of coffee lured Castle from his restless slumber. He slept poorly. (It had nothing to do with Beckett being on top of him - above him in the guest room.) He first waking thought was about her. The radiation badges showed nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Bigtree wanted to end their involvement if today's meeting didn't yield a list of warehouses or it seemed future interactions were unlikely. The fake assassination of Smee was also no go. The fairy dust had run out. Everything was for naught.

She was fully dressed in somber colors and looked out the windows over the city. _Her_ city. Both hands wrapped around the mug and the white knuckles betrayed too much. She knew he was there but refused to face him. To let him see the bags under her eyes. The sorrow at coming close and having it slip away - _again._

An involuntary sigh was muffled as he reminded himself not to push and moved instead towards the hot beverage she had prepared. She was trying to bring him coffee more often now. The gesture helped sustain him at times like this. He expected this reversal - physical distance after so much closeness.

They were still on opposite sides of the loft when the burner phone rang. Castle answered and only got in the standard greeting before a volume of information flooded his way. When the call ended minutes later, their positions in the loft hadn't changed. Beckett had her back turned, not wanted to face the bad news.

Castle allowed the constant tug to pull him towards her. He eased into position, taking a familiar stand behind her and whispered, "I'm going to hold you to your promise."

"Which one?" They did have a hell of a lot of history between them.

"The one to break me out of prison." The amusement in his voice said so much more.

She whipped around, "Really? It's a go? What changed?" Her voice was both hopeful and needy and it almost broke Castle's heart.

What he wouldn't give to see that eagerness and happiness attributed to him instead of the case. "Everything changed. Chatter is up about a big event. Zhuk went nuts and started moving everything out of the warehouse we were at. Known Al Qaeda terrorists arrived and some money is getting transferred around so it'll be difficult to track. They want to up the pressure by pushing the fake death of Smee." Castle searched her entire being trying to read her thoughts.

He continued her personal briefing, "Bigtree is convinced the cobalt 60 is there. He thinks it was shielded inside one of the many shipping containers. It wouldn't even have to be as much as last time if they focused on making lots of small bombs instead of a large one. It would increase the panic and chances we couldn't find them all this time." He evaluated her. The nukes weren't at the top of the list of concerns yet. It was their charade and his safety and framing Halstead.

He let the banter of their words boomerang, "If my getaway is foiled by NYPD will you come get me?" It was probably the last chance they'd have to make light of the efforts of their day.

A deep throaty chuckle came back at him, "Hell, I'll be the one locked up. It's my turn to have your back and make sure you get away." She knew it was a role reversal befitting so many changes between them. Instantly she got serious. "We've got a lot to do. Call me as soon as you're out of the shower."

He avoided the obvious innuendo and whined about her objective, "Really I can dress myself. I've had the hidden body armor on twice before. Besides, you don't let me help you put yours on."

"Castle. You heard me. Go." She actually gave him a gentle shove and swatted his butt. They exchanged a small smile and she went back upstairs to put her concealed vest on and change to a loose fitting shirt. The boots gave way to black athletic shoes. The leather jacket tossed aside for a non descript blue hoodie. Her hair was pinned up under a black pageboy cap. Finally she took off her fathers watch and snapped the decorative clip that doubled as her panic button onto a belt loop. Detective Beckett was no where in sight. The woman in the mirror was desperate to believe in fairy dust and Derrick Storm.

**Russians at the warehouse - 5 Hours To Go**

The first steel containers moved were decoys. Their transport was handled with a grand flourish of care and concern. By contrast this phase was meant to look like an after-thought. Even his trusted enforcer was unaware of the scam, but he was good at vigilance.

Boris broke into Zhuk's thoughts, "Where do you want Victor to go?"

"Victor?" He didn't have time for personnel issues. Choosing the sacrificial lambs was Yukes' job even if he didn't know their true fate.

With a grunt Boris waved a beefy arm towards the smallish steel container. The pristine white of the new paint was in stark contrast to the black letters bleeding through betraying the former owners: VECTOR. The letter E was partially obliterated by a rust scar, so the crate did indeed look like an oversized doghouse for Victor.

Zhuk laughed at the grim reaper's name. Victor was indeed going to be victorious and swell his ranks. But until the finale, the chess game continued. "This special box goes to the storage yard, but it goes inside the warehouse." Cargo crate 19-79 had a nickname.

"Da."

He walked over to it and checked the gauges. All were within range. He called over his shoulder, "Take very good care of our friend." Then he left in a separate vehicle. No way in hell he was riding with Victor.

**Loft at 9 AM**

Alexis came into the kitchen and absently gave her dad a hug. She felt the hidden amour. She jumped backward as if stung. She evaluated her father. He looked almost ordinary in blue jeans and a maroon t shirt. The black hooded sweatshirt was loose and frumpy. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and he didn't have an expensive watch flashing on his wrist. Alexis looked at Beckett with eyes wide open.

A shared feeling of remorse for the playboy who was no where to be seen shot through the detective. She caved to the pressure and excused herself to call her own father. She needed a moment before she played a con to get closer to the dragon. She couldn't take the reproach from little Castle.

Father Castle was no saint and he never pretended otherwise. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, child of mine."

The daughter asked anyway, "How worried should I be about your safety?"

He sighed. It was no wonder she was older than her years. "Safety will be fine. Reputation my take a few shots in the near term."

A genuine laugh filled the air. "That's something I know how to deal with." She cocked her head and gave her dad a gift, "I may get to question your conduct but we're family and the next time an outsider does it, I won't side against you."

"Thanks, pumpkin. Gram has an idea of the shenanigans that are up, so if you can't reach me she might be able to set your mind at ease. But you're still grounded for the next month." They stayed in a close until Beckett reappeared.

Alexis surprised Kate with a bear hug. She confessed against the woman's stiff surprise, "Yes, I'm checking to make sure you're protected too. You both come home safe, please."

Kate gave her a quick squeeze of wordless appreciation. _Home? _There was so much more to loose these days. She pushed it away. Gratitude and guilt came later.

**Russians at the Main Warehouse - 4 Hours To Go**

The men were in from the cold, smoking and taking a well earned break from the flurry of activity the morning brought. Mr. Zhuk looked over the paperwork and scribbled some notes. Then he started barking orders, "You lazy dogs! The medical equipment needs to be gathered in one location. The steel containers from Koltsovo need to be driven to the scales and weighted. Transport these empty hulls out to the far side of the lot. Move!"

Everyone scrambled to look busy while most held their grumbles. They dared not risk pissing off this man, his reputation was earned, but it was busy work just to make them earn their pay.

Actually it was part of the shell game so anyone watching would be unable to keep track of which containers from this morning were staying and which ones were sneaking out with the normal schedule. Zhuk cast a wary eye on the white box patently humming to keep its wares cold. Ivan kept his distance. The box was showing its age with its scars of rust. Under the thin white veil a red star harkened back to a glorious past. What was that saying? _"Everything old is new again." _This was as old as the Pharos.

**The Duo at 10 AM**

Castle went to the front desk of the hotel. "If room 1204 is available we'd like that one for sentimental reasons." He gave Beckett a leer and the minimum wage employee blushed as she quickly took the credit card information in exchange for a room key. Castle having a clandestine encounter at a hotel was playing into expectations.

Once inside the room Castle went to the adjoining door. He paused, "Let's see if they play knock, knock, who's there?'"

Before he could irritate the detective further the door opened and Smee/Huron beckoned them inside.

Fallon and Beckett were itching to get down to business. The shooting, get away, diversion and alibi were among the details to share. The key players, Smee and Castle evaluated each other. The next time they saw each other a gun would be with a loaded gun, albeit with blanks. Castle looked at his target with curiosity, "Are you a good actor?"

He appreciated his candor and the chance to ease the seriousness. The intended victim played to his audience, "To quote the immortal Peter, 'To die will be an awfully big adventure.'"

**Zhuk at the Main Warehouse - 4 Hours To Go**

Hide in plain sight. If anyone was watching he kept the resources tied up watching him. The head Russian couldn't risk going to the new center of operation, a very old and unused facility. He called Yukes, "Are the security cameras on the inside of the complex working yet?"

"Da."

He flipped on his laptop and typed in the web address. He scrolled between the pictures evaluating the efforts. "Backup generators ready?" They had to be prepared for every eventuality. Beds were located in a quiet corner of the vast space.

"Da."

"Supplies?"

"They are still being sorted." They were hastily repacked this morning and the contents were being arranged and organized once again. The masks were distributed and protective coveralls were nearby. Stockpiles of basic necessities were ready. Food was coming in now. It was good food. They deserved that.

**Remy's Diner about 11AM**

A very carefully choreographed plan was in play. Castle and Beckett were establishing their alibi. Buzzing around Manhattan before having an implied "afternoon delight" showed they were miles away from Brooklyn. A very conspicuous red Ferrari garnered attention in front of the diner. The duo snagged a quick bite and then planned on moving forward before the lunch crowd descended.

The plans teetered when two of New York's finest evaluated the dichotomy in front of them. Beckett was feeding Castle a French fry when they appeared. The sexual tension was gone and mere tension clung to them. Each was as stiff as the new cheap fabric jackets. Both had bloodshot eyes. Castle was like ice and Beckett was fried to the point of being black around the edges.

The detectives raked over the clues and sat without waiting for an invitation.

Only Castle pretended, "Hey guys. What's new?"

Beckett kicked him under the table. "Did Lanie give you the information about the other suspect in the Murphy Cookson case?"

Esposito nodded. Ryan was avoiding eye contact. When they last saw the detective she _willingly_ walked away from the precinct. She escalated an IAB investigation for no real reason. There had to be a very good reason and she shut them out. The silence hung about them.

Castle, the wordsmith and story teller, searched for something above trite but below truth. '_We're chasing the guy who deals in cobalt 60' _or_ 'I pushed Beckett down the rabbit hole even though she was putting it behind her _were no better than '_hey, I'm going to shoot someone this afternoon.'_ He came up empty.

NYPD didn't do touchy feely. "Guys, sorry the case load got dumped on you but I had to push back at Gates. She was more concerned with appearances than protecting her people. That's why we stalled with lawyers." Beckett shrugged. It was the best she could offer. She slid out of the booth and Castle followed.

Ryan looked wary, "Where are you guys going?"

Castle gave a goofy grin, "Shooting."

**Russians at the Hidden Warehouse - 3 Hours To Go**

The ingredients were in place but needed time. A week was planned and he was mere hours behind schedule. The "training recruits" arrived. These chosen ones were going to spend a time with physical conditioning and lessons on evasion as part of the deal. He even had a very well paid doctor and nurse in the know ready.

To keep his "army" happy, decks of cards, movies and books were ready. Hostesses were hired. Perhaps they were nothing more than girlfriends of the guards, but someone need to cook and clean up after these men.

At carefully planned intervals there were plane and bus tickets to hand out. The neat stacks of money were a further enticement. These were locked in the center of the large chain link enclosure in the back of the building. It could also be used as a means to lockup anyone who became a problem. The guards had their orders but the money would keep them in line. Money isn't the issue. Protecting yourself and your loved ones were the hard parts.

**High Noon at the Shooting Gallery**

The red Ferrari was parked outside Zeroed In Range to Target. Beckett was burning off her tension by blasting through a box of ammo. Castle was working on accuracy. His aim hardly mattered since he would be firing blanks, a total of two, but getting desensitized to the sound was helpful. He visualized Smee grabbing his chest and popping the hidden gel packs of blood as he slammed against the brick wall and quickly "died." His aim was off wearing the black leather gloves. (It didn't make sense why it would affect his aim but it something did. Best to blame it on the gloves.) There couldn't be fingerprints just in case an alibi was needed.

The next part of the alibi occurred when they exited the range and quickly got into the waiting taxi. Just behind them a red Ferrari pulled out put went the other direction. You could see driver in a black, the passenger in blue with a black pageboy cap pulled low. Both wore sunglasses.

In the taxi Peter (Rick) turned towards Wendy (Kate). He was rather excited by the drama of the day but knew his partner had a flood of emotions pulling at her. He sat motionless while she put the ball cap on his head and fussed his errant strands of hair. Carefully she pulled his hood up over it and slowly zipped up the jacket as if that would seal him from harm. The mirrored sunglasses to hide the rest of his face would wait.

"Tell me again," she ordered. The heat was radiating off of her despite the frosty outside world. Her brow was furrowed.

He smiled at the umpteenth reiteration. She knew he was good with details. It was to distract her. "I'm strolling down the sidewalk in Little Odessa. There's a good looking chick a few feet in front of me but she's in baggy jeans and shorter than I'm used to so I'm not paying any attention to her. She's checking out the surroundings and if all the others players are ready she'll put her hood up. If she yells for her friend, "Peter" it's an aborted attempt. No matter what, I get in the taxi around the corner and take off."

"Almost," she scolded him. "There may be some good Samaritan with a permit to carry a concealed weapon that might try to intervene. If that happens, don't try to get away. Fallon's agents will intercede and flash badges and get you out of there." Her traitorous hands ran over his chest to feel the concealed bullet proof vest.

"It hasn't disappeared since you put it on me this morning. It will still be there, unused, when you take it off of me tonight." He openly taunted hoping it would annoy her back to their "normal."

"Maybe if you're a good boy you can help me out of mine." The eye sex was anything but teasing.

Normal was overrated.

**Russians - 2 Hours To Go**

Yukes called. "Where do you want the small box?"

He choked out, "What did you say?" How…

"The small box. You wanted it positioned where you could see it through the camera. Where should I have the men put it?"

"In the doctor's office. It will be protected and out of the way there." Zhuk pulled up the camera feed and watched a man use a pallet jack to move the crate into the room. The position against the back wall was perfect. He could clearly see Victor in his new home. He took a deep breath.

**Little Odessa at 1P.M.**

The taxi passed an ambulance crew stopped for lunch at one of the many ethnic diners in Russian district known as Little Odessa. A few shoppers strolled the streets but most were hiding inside buildings or vehicles instead of braving the bitter cold. The cab pulled over and 'Wendy' headed down the block. He watched her for a half minute before coolly addressing the driver, "Status?"

Agent Drum was equally as terse, "Green."

He got out and steeled himself. _The ice man cometh. _His focus narrowed to relevant details. 'Wendy' bumped into a homeless man walking towards her and they mumbled something to each other. The black man nodded to 'Peter' as he passed.

Rick scanned the sparse number of pedestrians to check for other agents. Yep, the tourist couple up ahead with a video camera out and ready were an easy pick. They were directly opposite the ice cream shop closed for the season. _Directly opposite the kill zone. _Not yet. Too soon to think about that and possibly give something away. He noticed a man in a tie and trench coat loitering as he negotiated a deal on his smart phone. He was very close to the outdoor seating area where Smee would be waiting. 'Wendy' passed the businessman by and paused to look in a shop window where a middle aged woman also gazed. She was definitely not an agent, but also not a threat.

'Wendy' put her hood up. Showtime. He passed the closed confectionary of sweet treats and glanced to his right. The lone figure among the picnic tables was Aleksandr Smee, his hands busy adding sugar to a steaming cup of coffee.

Castle drew himself to full height and growled at the dirt bag, "You filthy bastard. How dare you?"

Smee dropped the Styrofoam cup and the first spilled liquid pooled at his feet. "Hey big man, just calm down. It was an empty threat." He reached into a pocket for the blackened steel but his opponent was faster.

His gun was out and flashed in the light of day. "My threats aren't empty."

A woman screamed. Probably the ordinary housewife window shopping.

Two shots rang out in quick succession. The young man grabbed his chest and staggered backwards even as the blood spilled down the front of the white shirt under an open Ranger's hockey jacket. The backward momentum stopped when he hit the wooden fence hard enough to jar it. The agony on his face was thankfully hidden as the man's knees buckled and he crumpled, face-down, in a heap.

Castle evaluated the two bullets lodged in the fence (he thought it was supposed to be brick?), the wet red stains on the man's back, and Smee's gun that tumbled from his pocket during the fall. He was out of time. "Rest in hell," he swore as he jogged away from the scene.

He rushed by the two woman. The older one must have hit her head when they ducked for cover because the other one was fussing over her.

No one was yelling for him to stop so he continued he fast break for the cab conveniently parked around the corner and slammed the door as it sped away. Richard Castle had just gunned down a man in broad daylight.

1:06 P.M.


	16. 16 Small Box

The clock in the belly of the croc said, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock." - From Peter Pan

* * *

><p>If Beckett were drunk she couldn't be any giddier. She wrapped her arms around Castle the moment she got in the hotel room and ignored the federal agent trailing behind her. "How's my bad ass boy?"<p>

"Boy? I shoot someone in broad daylight and I'm just your boy?" He felt the heat rolling off her.

She smirked unwilling to verbalize the challenge to prove he's more. So much more. As it is she is punch drunk with relief that he's ok and she's about to unwrap the best damn gift anyone's ever given her. Sure she has to con a Mafioso to set up the fire inspector, but it's a lead. She was willing to live with the regret of never pursuing her mother's case and he gave her an avenue to pursue it. Best damn part? It was sanctioned by the federal government and Gates could kiss her ass.

A throat cleared effectively separating the two.

Beckett tossed justification back to Fallon, "Just getting into character for the next round."

"Too bad. I thought maybe all your close calls finally resulted in you two making every last second count."

"I wouldn't trade a minute." Castle looked at the flush on Beckett's face and admitted as much as he dared, "The journey of the protagonist is cheap if gained too quickly or without struggle."

Beckett let the words reassure and caress her guilt away. "Alright. Let's marshal on through the next battle and try to find out what Ivan the Terrible is up to."

Fallon pulled out a list of addresses where Zhuk regularly stored cargo from his import/export business. Beckett pulled out the map of Fire Inspector Halstead's jurisdiction and they compared the two.

Castle tried to gauge the resources, thus importance, of this case _before_ the Al Quida meet, "How many of these places did you get checked?"

"Three." Fallon wouldn't met his eyes

"Really?" Why so few was the unasked question but then the partners recognized the disease: Fallon was investigating it on his own as time permitted. He was pursuing a long shot because the higher-ups couldn't think outside the box.

Back tracing the route the cobalt 60 took before it got in the hands of Kevin McCann may not shortcut finding it this time, but it did give insight to Ivan's patterns. No wonder Fallon was willing to "play with fire" to see if Beckett's gambit worked.

Castle navigated a weird world where he was the cautious voice between two near fanatics working for the greater good at any cost. Then again, he hated to review the pulse points that got him here. "Any guidance on the next round?"

"Don't hold back. Push and threaten with any means necessary to get us some leads." He met Castle's eye admitting that last time it was Castle's push with the Syrian diplomat that led to finding the dirty bomb.

Fallon continued, "We're hoping to get more leads on places we don't know about. His morning shuffle got us 2 more addresses we didn't know he used. Just like Kevin McCann, he isn't afraid to park it in someone else's lot either to cast suspicion on them or just to keep his places from being contaminated if something went wrong."

They both glanced over at Beckett. She was busy highlighting the known addresses in Halstead's area. Surprisingly there were quite a few. "I'm ready."

"Do you want me to memorize half the addresses so we can make sure we're getting new leads?" Castle offered.

She looked mildly affronted at the offer, and then Beckett rattled off the list effortlessly.

"That is so hot!" Castle meant that to be an inside thought but it came out. He may be attracted to her body (what man wouldn't) but he fell in love with her mind. Her person, the way she solved cases with scant resources and leads. Her strength. The way she looked in a gown and felt in his arms…

The scene made Fallon chuckle. "Let's put your imagination to better use. Tell us what Ivan is up to right now."

* * *

><p><strong>Russians - Zero Hour<strong>

Zhuk shut his office door. He got out the bottle of vodka and stared at the image on the screen. The rust patches were more pronounced on the box than when it first arrived. It was fitting, but the image mocked him. The new crate number 19-79 was hastily sprayed and the red numbers left streaks of paint running from them. Pandora's Box had been opened. A mask laid on top the cold steel box.

The mask represented tragedy, but he made peace with that last time he sold terror. He stretched out on the couch, drank his vodka to sooth his conscience and lit a cigar while contemplating his power.

When the device rang it set off a warning bell in his head. He still had one loose end to tie up. Although he contemplated killing or kidnapping them, it was much easier to play along and to keep their attention focused where he wanted it.

He answered the cell phone from the dangerous pair. "Da?"

"We need to meet," the sexy voice demanded.

"Certainly I will make time for someone who is interested in Dimetry's well being. I am at work in my office which I trust you can find. I will tell my staff I am expecting you." The blackness in his voice was a warning not unnoticed by the trained investigator.

She snapped shut the phone in a huff. "That was too damn easy."

"He tried to smear your name and instead you focus the investigation on his right hand man effectively cutting it off. You exposed the hidden den of iniquity and you hold a loved one's future in your hands. Now I've demonstrated my wrath. A wise man knows when to cave."

The sense of foreboding stayed with her and Castle read her like the open she was to him. "Kate, what's wrong?"

His partner's expression was unreadable but he was pretty certain she had a headache. Fallon twitched. Castle turned back to Kate, silently demanding an answer.

"There was a small problem with the shooting. The housewife is a devoted fan who's attended numerous readings. She recognized your voice. The investigation will have no choice but to consider you a suspect."

Fallon tried to downplay it. "The Ferrari was gassed up right at 1 PM using your credit card and then driven back here to the hotel garage. Your alibi is solid. The investigation can't ignore the fan, but her account will be downplayed."

Castle shrugged it off Beckett style. They planned for this possibility. Agent Drum maneuvered his taxi to an entrance without surveillance to get him inside without being seen. Even bad publicity was good for sales. As a last resort they called it a publicity stunt in a few weeks and trotted out Huron as Smee. "So? Let's focus on what really matters." Rick was just as excited as Kate to take a step closer to a lead about her mom's case.

This is where the stakes got high and Castle was invested in every detail He riveted their attention when he walked to the mini bar and chose a bottle. Even though he was a scotch man this was about the red hot Russian woman posing as his girlfriend. He twisted off the cap of the Absolut, took a swig and then emptied the remains on the left sleeve of the crappy hooded sweatshirt jacket. He added water from the tap and swirled the contents. Throwing his head back he flushed each eye with the solution swearing at the sting it caused.

"What the hell?" Kate was on him in a second knocking the bottle from his hand. She grasped his face and peered into each eye worried at the redness.

Only when he winked at her did she piece together his disguise and smack him for his rash action.

"Would one of you use words and tell me what that was all about?" Fallon truly was bewildered.

Beckett kept her hand on Castle's cheek. "Character portrayal. Castle isn't a cop or criminal who is used to killing people so he should be having trouble dealing with his actions. Ivan will think he's drunk and ignore him allowing Castle to be less of a threat and more effective as a snoop."

"If you ever need a professional assessment to convince your superiors that you two are an amazing team, let me know." Fallon waved them on. "Go get some intel."

* * *

><p>Zhuk knew already that Aleksandr Smee was dead. The shopkeeper (money launderer) across the street saw the ambulance workers give up on the life but transport the body just to get it out of sight. The young man had little history working for him so the affect of his death was minimal. It did change how he saw the couple before him.<p>

The man of fiction smelled of gunpowder and alcohol - a damning combination. The author slumped heavily in a chair and the woman was dangerous without her handlers - either her lover or her captain. The careful dance he had planned became secondary to making this hiccup in the grand scheme of things go away.

The woman slapped down a map and waited impatiently. "Don't piss me off," she warned. "I've already got a headache, or two," she added as she glanced at the man rubbing his temples, "and I am not in the mood to play nice."

Ivan nodded his agreement that this needed to be concluded quickly.

She pointed to a dilapidated area where he had no known properties. "Here."

He shook it off and pinpointed a location elsewhere. She declined (they knew about that one.) The pattern repeated a few more times. When she tapped her finger over Union City he actually blanched.

He threw up his hands. Swearing he begged for help from the author. There was a certain elegance in the dictation of his curses that exposed his truly sinister nature. Zhuk waited on the writer to respond.

Richard awkwardly hauled himself up and brushed by the map. "My job's ta bring marshed mallows." The slurred words and unsteady gait made his transit to the couch behind the desk understandable. His slumped on it so Beckett could maintain the lead this round.

Castle lolled his head to the side and peered at the laptop screen as if staring into space. He wondered what low budget Slovakian film was so desperate for plot it wasted time showing the recruits getting medical exams from a doctor. The only interesting diversion in the scene was the pretty nurse sticking q-tips up their noses. He waited for a booger to jump for freedom making the movie a farce.

Only when the scene repeated again and again did he suspect it was a live feed. He flopped an arm over his eyes so he could watch it more closely without giving away his interest.

A steel shipping crate was centered in the background. Center- a place of prominence with a camera trained on it. It had an old red Soviet star poorly hidden under the ghosting of white paint. The number pricked at his memory 19-79 dripping paint lines looked like blood running cold.

He freed his mind from what they were looking for and hadn't found: radiation. His professional need to get the details right made him pick off the clues that they were seeing: VECTOR, medical equipment, refrigerated cargo, Russian imports. What did a these things mean for Al Quiada interest?

In a blinding second of clarity he saw the end game. It all made sense: the pharmaceutical and medical supplies, the ballsy precedent of getting nuclear material into the country, the obvious necessity of Russian involvement and _the often overlooked attack parried after 9/11._

His reputation as the master of macabre was earned with research even if most of the ghoulishness never made it into a book. Trite bits of information about a Soviet defector in 1992 who boasted about 20 tons of bioweapons. Recent predictions about a modern pandemic killing an estimated 50 million people world wide. Vaccine shortages and medical rationing.

Oh god, oh god, oh god _no_! He had to be wrong. His overactive writer's imagination was running away with him. He looked towards his tower of strength, his righteous partner and the woman he loved for a lifeline.

She shot him a dazzling smile. "Your patience will be rewarded, my love. Not much longer."

_Her _patience was about to be rewarded. They were negotiating final details about the fire.

Beckett was thrilled to be getting this chance. He couldn't stop it now. Really, he had no proof. Better to mention it to Fallon in a few days after he could do some more research. After Beckett's selfless service got a little payback. He couldn't destroy this chance because it was a once in a lifetime perfect gift from heaven itself.

_What's a few days difference? _He tried to justify a delay. Any delay. Now was not the time to go off half cocked.

Time. The countdown was deadlier and much more widespread. Could they afford any delay?

Even if he was right, cops would get priority for vaccines in a pandemic. Beckett would be fine. His heart whispered that loved ones were at risk. Elderly wouldn't get priority and his mother and Kate's dad would be at risk.

He was growing a half baked theory. What was Ivan growing? 30 percent mortality at a minimum, higher if it were the malignant or hemorrhagic forms. They are almost _always fatal_.

What if he was wrong? Could he risk blowing everything? Fallon's investigation and Beckett's lead on her mother's investigation would both end because of him.

He leaned forward with his head in his hands. He studied the images one more time. The nurse and doctor was dipping a clean swab into a liquid and then putting it up the men's noses. He waited until they shifted and he had a better glimpse of the crate. No new clues jumped out. He had to decide. Walk away from the mystery scene on the laptop and preserve Beckett's chances or give Fallon a lead and preserve the bliss of ignorance for New Yorkers and the world as we know it.

The arson was all planned except the day.

"Friday," Ivan offered.

"Wednesday," she demanded.

"No." Castle interrupted. Unbridled sorrow broke his frame.

They both looked at him. Kate warned him with a look to butt out.

"I'm so sorry. We've got other plans. I know you want to be there, but something else came up." _Oh God please let her forgive me. Right or wrong, I don't care. Please god don't let it end like this._ His internal pleadings were interrupted.

"**No. **You think this is some game? Some kind of power trip? You engineered this and that gives you the right to take it away?" She hissed her accusations and turned her back on him to address Ivan. "Ignore him. I will be."

"This is too important to ignore." His tone pleaded at the damage already done to their relationship.

"You tell me what could possibly be more important to _me_." Her emphasis on the last word was obvious.

He got up off the couch and came slowly towards her. If he was a little shaky in his gait this time it wasn't an act. It might be the last time he got close to her. "Even if I'm wrong I can't live with the possibility of risking the life you saved once before." He reached for the panic button clipped to her belt loop and pressed it twice in rapid succession.

"You _bastard." _She hoped the word stung as much as if she slapped him.

Whatever was going down between the lovers had Zhuk worried enough to want to bolt. He grabbed for his laptop but Castle intercepted his arm and executed a flawless takedown.

By sheer instinct the detective pulled her gun and ordered him to stay down. By looking down at the mob boss she could avoid looking at Ri…, no he was Castle.

Castle knew he had to exploit the upheaval and try to find out if his theory was correct. If he'd ruined Kate's trust in him permanently or just until hell froze over.

The storyteller started weaving the tale, "Declared eradicated by the World Health Organization in 1979 but held by 2 superpowers during a cold war where more than nukes were stockpiled. According to 2 or 3 defectors the VECTOR institute stored the weaponized version, up to 20 tons to be delivered by refrigerated warheads. It was probably engineered to be resistant to vaccines, easily transmitted by inhalation up to 6 feet away and takes 12 days from incubation to infection."

Castle paused, and then summed it up. "Everyone conveniently forgets the anthrax attacks of 9/11, but Al Quaida demonstrated their interest in bioweapons then. It took them this long to make another attempt."

"Anthrax attack? That's what going on?" Beckett asked with a quiver in her voice.

He turned the laptop so she could see the camera feed. "No. They're being deliberately infected with **small pox virus."**

Beckett realized the horror, but also the history of her alien conspiracy partner. "Are you sure?"

"No."

* * *

><p><strong>Leviticus 26:25<strong> And I will bring a sword upon you, that shall avenge the quarrel of my covenant: and when ye are gathered together within your cities, I will send the pestilence among you; and ye shall be delivered into the hand of the enemy.


	17. 17 Glass Prison

_Previously: Castle thinks he discovered a plot to spread small pox. He literally pressed the panic button rather than risk the chance of a bioweapon being unleashed by terrorists. Unfortunately, Beckett lost her chance to get confirmation that Halstead (the fire inspector from her mother's case) was dirty._

"And he stood between the dead and the living; and the plague was stayed." - Numbers 16:48

* * *

><p>Kate Beckett was sitting alone in quarantine at an undisclosed government facility. The refurbished quarters were designed to hold large numbers of infected persons not in comfort, but surrounded by medical safety with treatment at the forefront. Paranoia over a bird flu mutations prompted congress to allocate 7 billion dollars, and part of the visible result now housed her. She was also under a National Security gag order not to contact anyone and especially not to disclose the investigation that landed her in this fishbowl.<p>

Her only consolation, and a cold one at that, was as the only woman she was on an entirely different floor than the men. Well, the one man she refused to speak to or even see. She pretended it was an affront to her dignity; Nikki Heat would never end up dressed in red medical scrubs too short for her long legs or the scratchy, generic cotton underwear that made her feel less than a woman. Derrick Storm didn't need Nikki Heat. He tolls the bell to save the world all by himself.

What about Rick Castle and their private world and his quest to save her? Her head whispered that he had no choice; her heart whispered he didn't love her if he didn't put her first. She placated herself by getting her head and heart embroiled in the desperate hunt for the location of the small pox.

They couldn't back trace the video feed. It went through Russia (go figure) and they lost the routing. Knowing who brought it in, how it was labeled and where it had been stored did no good. They needed to find it. Now. Zhuk wasn't talking. Even her threats about Dmitry had no effect.

Evidently Castle and Beckett did encounter the shipping container with the deadly virus because Ivan the Terrible panicked and moved it Saturday morning. They came in contact with it Friday afternoon. That was a new one to wrap her head around: contact with deadly strain of a bio weapon.

Agent Nigel Bigtree had debriefed her personally (if talking by intercom through glass in a hermetically sealed room counts as personal.) He assured her that this information fit with other intel making the threat all too real and possible to occur. Such lovely reassurances: your partner who makes up stories for a living and thrives on half-baked ideas found a bio-terrorist plot that is real. Score one for the master of the macabre. Sarcasm was not one of her better attributes.

A medical person in a hazmat suit came in to check on her. The strain might be genetically modified to be vaccine resistant. "How are the symptoms?"

Beckett growled back, "I don't have symptoms. My headache is from caffeine withdraw."

"You're running a low grade fever." The nurse was trained to be honest but firm with the patients.

"_High_ grade fevers are a symptom." Kate challenged.

"Your eyes are red and you admit fatigue." She regarded her grumpy-girl with infinite patience.

Kate's eyes were red because she let a few sobs escape when they ordered her to take a shower. She was always tired but sleeping at Rick's, no, at Castle's place made her extra restless.

The caregiver tried another question, "Any muscle aches?"

_Does an aching heart count? _"No." She'd been on a rollercoaster with her mother's case and the scars, literal and figurative, were adding up

Mary Sunshine decided the infirmed specimen before her would survive the stimulation: "I'll see about bringing you some coffee."

"That's ok. I've been thinking about giving it up." _Right, the last time I gave up coffee was when my heart stopped beating._

"One of the other patients is asking to see you. Are you up for visitors?"

"I'd like to take a nap." Kate rolled over on the starched white bed turning her back on everything. Turned her back on the thought Castle was a Bond fan at heart and this kind of stuff was far more interesting than mundane murders of her normal routine. Turned her back on the rebirth of Derrick Storm, this time in real life. Turned her back on his old taunt that there wasn't enough to the Nikki character for more than one book. Turned her back on the cliffhanger of Rook's condition at the end of the last book. She turned her back because her heart was breaking because her brain continued to whisper terrible things.

Sleep was illusive but she kept up the pantomime.

To keep from thinking about what was really eating at her she mentally reviewed the case. DHS was coming up empty. Just like last time there was an ominous countdown underway and every second counted. There were a few little anomalies that picked at the back of her brain. If she were out of here she could run them down, re-interview the kid and stare at the map. But it was past time to face facts, she wasn't out in there in the world and she just might be a danger to society even if she wasn't infected with small pox. _Come on Mr. Storm, the world needs your inspiration._ If she couldn't build theory with the real deal, at least she could let his creation inspire her.

She evaluated her choices versus Zhuk's. Last time - when the nuclear material he smuggled into the country was set to detonate - Zhuk was out of the city and his godson was far enough away to not be in danger. What about this time? Was he going to sacrifice the young man to the epidemic? Who was she willing to sacrifice to her all-consuming need?

She shook of the remunerations about herself and replayed the map scene in her head. She was able to eliminate most of his known locations. But he gave off a slight hitch when she pointed to one of her nudges. It clicked into place for her. She grabbed the phone which connected with staff on the other side of the airtight glass.

"Get a message to agent Fallon, Huron or Bigtree. Tell them to check holdings in the Dmitry Starkey's name and see if anything comes up in Union City." The kid talked about the 'special place' where he roller bladed through the isles when his father took him to work. The kid wasn't related to the godfather so the connection might not have been analyzed.

She was satisfied on that front. Now what to do on the other front. She lay still, moping but thinking.

That damn happy woman in protective gear ventured in to collect the hourly readings on her vitals. The medical professional beamed with encouragement, "You have the flu. Specifically influenza A, strain H3N2 virus. The head of the CDC just confirmed it."

"I can't have the flu. I got the annual flu shot."

"Your body is still recovering from a major medical trauma. It has left you more susceptible to illness. The flu vaccine should still help make this bout of influenza less severe."

Kate Beckett wasn't one of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse. "What does it say about my life when having the flu is good news?"

"It doesn't mean you weren't exposed to small pox, but right now the flu is all that's showing up. We've got the head researcher from N-BACC (National Bio-defense Analysis and Countermeasures Center) here in person watching your blood work very closely."

"I feel so special. There's still a chance you'll get to study the creepy virus that you've been hoping for."

Realizing this may not be as exciting for the subject as it was for the team of specialists whose training finally put them on the front lines Nurse Too-Damn-Perky fell back on basics, "How about some food? You haven't eaten anything since you came in. I'll send the orderly for anything you want. Just name it."

"I lost my appetite."

"Tisk, tisk. What are we going to do with the two of you?"

That snapped Beckett's head around. "What do you mean?" She ignored the urge to smack someone who said 'tisk, tisk' and tried to get some intelligent conversation out of Ms. Double Rainbow.

"We've got a guy upstairs with the same long face refusing to eat. He mumbles about the last time he went to a hospital it was foreshadowing for 3 months of hell. I think maybe he's a psychic the way he…"

Beckett tuned her out. Words etched on her heart warred with her head, _"We are bound by our choices. If you're very lucky, you find someone to stand with you. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please…"_

Past tendencies were working against her and she was living up to her reputation. She knew she had to make the first move. He demonstrated he was done chasing because he put it out there and the rest was up to her. The notion of answering with silent indifference made her pick up the gauntlet. "Is that offer still good for a special meal request?"

The woman wearing sunny yellow beamed a smile. "You name it and we'll get it!"

The patient made her meal request, got out of bed, and paced. _Same old Kate Beckett_, she chided herself. Her mother's murder was like a red flag to a bull; one glimpse and she charged towards it oblivious to who else was in the ring and might get hurt. She knew Castle didn't have a choice and she honestly wondered if she would have had the moral strength to make the tough choice that really shouldn't have been a choice at all.

The ticking clock was slower this time, but a countdown was underway. Was she going to deny them even the small comfort of holding hands at the end? Had her time with Dr. Burke meant nothing changed since last time? She fidgeted around the room until the simple ingredients were brought to her.

Obediently she put on her protective gear so she could prepare the peace offering without infecting him or anyone else with the flu during her sojourn. She grabbed her meal trays anxious to see him. All doubts vanished and were superseded with the need to show him the past was not repeating. She journeyed through a series of chambers in corridors used only by the patients. The cop noted how easily they could control the infected population. Essentially they were incarcerated where unbreakable clear acrylic substituted for bars. They wouldn't break out of this prison, but at least they were together.

She paused watching him through the doorway. He had a movie playing on the electronic pad (no internet access, just books, movies, music and games.) His headphones made her think it was a ruse to keep anyone from bothering him because he was playing solitaire with a deck of cards. (Who plays solitaire with real cards anymore?) Beckett shook her head at the damage she did so easily managed to do.

Still wearing her disposable gear she set one tray down by the door and plopped the other one on top the card game.

"I've lost my appetite." He unknowingly echoed her line from a short time ago and didn't bother looking up.

She forced herself to give him space if that's what he wanted. She turned to leave and got as far as the door before he shouted to hear himself over the headphones, "Wait! Who sent this? Is this Agent Bigtree's idea of humor?"

He was looking down at a cup of coffee, peanut butter and jelly sandwich and apple slices. While that was unremarkable, the jar of jelly (cherry) and the jar of peanut butter (Peter Pan brand) were also on the tray. He looked back up at the food bearer and relief broke out over all his features. He tore off the headphones and drank in the sight of her.

She smirked that it took him this long to recognize her through the baggy coveralls. "How would Bigtree know about the _apples_?" Rick brought her an apple turnover when he wanted to say he was sorry. Apples were a truce, a white flag.

He looked back down at the fruit, and if he wasn't mistaken the apple slices were arranged suspiciously in the shape of a heart. Now his heart was beating wildly and his stomach was doing flip-flops. He beckoned her over and she sat by his bed. "How are you?" Obviously she was sick and the mask and gloves were scaring him. "They won't tell me anything."

"Well," she hesitated, "the head of the CDC was consulted for a second opinion." Beckett was dead serious and Castle looked crushed under the weight of the nightmare that was real.

"The head honcho for germ warfare wanted to make sure, but what I thought was _ice _running through my veins turns out to be red-blooded cells with the early stages of the flu. Nothing else yet."

He sagged in relief. "Oh Kate." He might as well been thanking God for answered prayers the way he breathed her name. "I hated myself for missing the signs you were getting sick. The flush, headache, bloodshot eyes, your voice was getting a nasal tone."

She teased him hoping the banter would put them back to normal, "The heat rolling off me had to be in response to your proximity and not a fever. Is that what you thought?"

"I didn't notice anything because I was too caught up in scripting the play." It was a veiled apology. Now that the undercover role of being a couple was over, were they over? How could she ever trust him again after what he put them through?

"So what movie were you watching?" She dodged.

"Romeo and Juliet." He watched her for unspoken clues.

_Oh! _"A little tragic for my tastes. I would have guessed a comedy like Taming of the Shrew." She arched her eyebrows and waited for his comeback.

"I didn't feel like comedy of errors or it would have been Shakespeare in Love." That brought some color back to the pale complexion. He picked up an apple slice to accept her gesture and wanted to feed it to her. "How are you supposed to eat with a mask on?"

Food was forgotten because of the arrival of a visitor. Agent Huron popped in the room with grim look. Without preamble he shared the news. "Beckett, you were right about the location. It was in the kid's name handed down to him from his father.

Castle glanced at his partner with undisguised admiration.

Huron continued with a grimace, "Securing the facility was messy because they couldn't risk anyone getting away or allow anyone to resist being taken into custody. There's no doubt based on the doctor's statement that it's smallpox. They are mopping up so it's to take a while to sort out if anyone infected got away."

That gave them all pause. A partial victory that didn't feel like one.

"I did make a point of asking and my asshole mob boss Boris Yukes is no longer breathing."

"Can you get me that officially?" the detective asked.

"For your team to use?"

She nodded. "It's a safe bet the small pox was the reason the custom's officer got killed, so if the shooter is dead there won't be any need for the boys to keep pursuing motive for the DA's office."

"Good point. I'll have them 'sanitize' a death certificate right away. The good news, if any can be found, it that the doctor swears the seals weren't broken until today. That means all of us should be in the clear. Another few hours to confirm our antigens are normal, we'll get the vaccines just to be safe, and Monday morning you can pretend none of this happened."

Beckett and Castle looked at each other. _Monday.._. _Internal Affairs... _Fallon was going to be too busy to bail them out of hot water with Gates.

Huron wasn't certain what the look was about, but he knew when to butt out. "Anyway, just wanted to be the one to tell you guys you did it again. I'll be back with updates." He left them to get back to his post. He was the only one authorized to have a link with the outside world.

"Are you most worried about what the guys, Gates, or the whole precinct thinks of you?"

"Gee Castle, way to make a girl feel better. At least you left out what Martha and Alexis are going to think of me."

Her unspoken invitation to comment on their relationship surprised him. "Kate, work has forced us to flirt with some boundaries before, but I'll be happy enough to sort it out somewhere down the road. Keep the boundaries, just don't push me away."

She nudged him over to sit on the edge of his bed. "You said that before. Usually I'm the one pushing for status quo. These days I'm happy to see you not flinch when I reach for you."

"You do have a mean ear twist," he teased.

"You did a great take down on Zhuk. I was happy to see you didn't automatically reach for your gun."

"Proof that the important stuff hasn't changed, at least not for the worst. We're partners, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health…" He reached up and slipped off her paper mask and tossed it aside. He needed to read her nonverbal clues.

She chewed her lip. Damn he was laying it on heavy tonight. "Can we skip the last part of the line? The numbers of times we've faced death are getting alarming. Bullets, bombs and beasts, oh my!" She sang.

"Yeah, now add in bio weapons. It makes going in to face Gates and Internal Affairs almost a welcome change of pace." It was an admission of how much he asked of her. Asked? No, he clarified to himself, he demanded from her. What started as intercession for the good guys with a convict up for parole ended with small pox and her mother's murder used as a bargaining chip.

She watched that mind of his churning and offered some solace, "Until we officially get the 'all clear' to leave, what about a movie?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"The Search for Spock."

"Really?" He was amazed she was willing to forgive him. He tugged her down beside him, shaking his head at her concern of giving him the flu. She knew just how to stroke his inner nerd.

She lay beside him and whispered the opening line of the movie: "It is logical. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one." She linked pinkies with him. The next line lingered, unsaid but not unfelt, "I have been and _always_ shall be your friend."

Friendship as an unshakable basis for so much more.


	18. 18 Epilogue

**Last Chapter - Epilogue**

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. …And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired." -Edgar Allan Poe, Masque of the Red Death

* * *

><p>At the bewitching hour they were freed from their glass prison. Castle and Beckett knew nothing beyond a generic "The situation has been resolved." They got a parting, "Thank you for your efforts," and an order to "Forget this ever happened." Tired and sick Beckett went back to her apartment. She would rest better in her own bed and Castle refused to leave his ailing partner alone.<p>

Gone were the quips about 'being here to protect you' and 'I sleep with a gun' since that now applied to both. The new dynamic would sort itself out after Kate recovered. Hopefully her health and reputation would both bounce back quickly.

Water, tissue and pills were on her nightstand. Hovering was never a good idea, so he prepared to retire to the couch. "Call if you need anything, Kate."

"Distraction?" She reached out to halt his escape, surprising him with her timid request.

Evidently the physical closeness was a lasting feature of the recent adventures. "Book?" he offered.

"Wrong kind of bedtime story." They both needed to decompress from the past few days and try not to worry about Gates, and the shooting, and the IAB investigation. She hastened to clarify, "Simple conversation?"

Castle pulled a chair over to her bed so he could face her. "It's never a problem getting me to talk. It may be the first time ever I won't be offended if a beautiful woman falls asleep to the sound of my voice." The teasing was a barometer for each of them.

"Just pretend that hypnotizing your audience is a new skill Derrick Storm mastered," she countered.

"Mesmerizing a woman is more likely something from Rook's playbook; he's the lover boy. Derrick Storm is a man of action." He reached out and gave her hand a simple caress.

A fleeting look crossed Beckett's face. "You've become one with your earliest creation. In real life you've got history taking down bad guys, saving the world, and lethal skills to match. Rook would be jealous."

He knew exactly what they were talking about without talking about it. "Coming full circle has a nice sound to it, but don't sell me short. There are a lot of counterparts to draw from for my real characterization. Rook and Storm are obvious, but R. Alexander Rodgers and the father of Alexis Castle are just as important."

Castle was intrigued by Detective Beckett but fell in love with Kate. She was saved, once again, by Derrick Storm, but she was falling in love with a man named Rick.

Maybe having a bad-ass partner didn't throw the dynamic of their relationship off. Maybe it was just another part of their evolution like finding justice for Johanna would be. "Sounds like a complex guy, but 4 cornerstones tells me he's rock solid." She had a genuine smile gracing her features.

"Foundation is good imagery. Now it is time to build something strong and lasting." He dared her to ask, to tease, and to want to hear more. Being Katherine Beckett's life partner was the apex. They deserved to be equals. Peter Pan had left the building.

* * *

><p>Monday was a beautiful day. Crisp, clean, bright and in strong contrast to the way Beckett felt. She was achy, tired and her sore throat pricked with every swallow. But she was on Tamiflu and had a whole team of doctors concurred that she wasn't contagious with the flu or worse.<p>

Richard Castle and Detective Beckett arrived together at the 12th precinct of the NYPD. Captain Gates was expecting them at 9am sharp and they had a few minutes to spare. Rather than head to their desk they went to the break room. The guys were the first ones to follow them in.

Beckett didn't beat around the bush, "You guys should _not_ be talking to us. This is going to look bad and Gates may hold it against you." They moved aside as more people filed in the break room.

Esposito snorted in disgust so Ryan answered, "Beckett, if it were about how things look I'd say you look like crap! Are you sick?"

"No." "Yes." Came the simultaneous answers from the duo.

Castle offered, "She has the flu but isn't contagious."

"Don't be too sure about that," Esposito said in a low voice. "The blue flu can be highly contagious." He nodded at the last few detectives who where choosing that moment to get coffee.

Castle knew the importance of his levity, "Everyone missed me? Sorry, I didn't bring donuts." _The break room was full and the bullpen was empty._

Beckett rested her hand on Castle's arm to quiet him. She sent an open acknowledgement of silent gratitude to each and every one of them standing behind her, literally and figuratively.

It was so quiet when the elevators pinged that the IAB officers sounded like a thundering pack ready to thin the herd. Gates stepped out of her office to greet them and the two groups stared across the room. Beckett crossed the divide and offered to shake hands with investigators.

"After further consideration I decided to forgo legal representation, but Mr. Castle's attorney will be here shortly."

"Hey, don't start without me!" Agent Huron aka Smee burst from the stairwell out of breath for his efforts. "Sorry I'm running late with the information you requested, detective." He handed the folder to her and scanned the room while she did the same with death certificate on Boris Yukes.

Ryan went for the murder board to grab the DMV photo of Aleksandr Smee, deceased, and Esposito went up to the dirt bag with handcuffs out. If Smee was alive he was still a suspect in the death of Murphy Cookson.

Beckett stopped the burly detective and asked the agent to introduce himself. She wasn't sure what was classified.

The young agent waved. "Hi everyone. I'm the dead guy Castle shot."

"Looks like he missed." was followed by "Yeah, this isn't laser tag." A nervous twitter went through the room even as money started exchanging hands as bets were paid off.

Beckett advance on the flippant agent with intent to harm. She was tired of his reckless disregard for propriety. Gates stopped them with her own death glare. "I will not have my precinct turn into a circus. Mr. Castle, if this was some kind of publicity stunt you will answer for it. I have not worked this hard to get where I am to be embarrassed by the likes of you."

"I'll be the one supplying answers." Deputy Inspector Thompson rounded the corner and introduced himself to Captain Gates. "As Personnel Liaison for the NYPD I am executing this National Security Certificate authorizing the seizure of all documents and evidence relating to Aleksandr Smee, Boris Yukes, Ivan Zhuk and Murphy Cookson cases, as well as any information gathered by IAB on Detective Beckett or Mr. Castle's actions during the past 3 weeks." He handed a copy to the captain and another to Agent Huron who beckoned the 2 IAB officers over to read the warrant.

"Let's step into the office to talk." Gates suggested.

"First things first. While everyone is assembled I'll call attention to orders." He took 2 letters of commendation and presented a copy to Castle and Beckett. "The Governor regrets a more public and fitting tribute is prohibited, but these citations of merit are to be added to your personnel files as a small tribute to your service." He handed 2 more copies to Gates.

"You want me to be impressed by Mr. Castle's connections because of a paper certificate from the governor?"

"No, Captain Gates, I want you impressed by the seriousness of national security. I am going to tell you exactly what is expected of you. Let's talk in your office now." Thompson felt an undercut of annoyance at this subordinate and her aloofness.

Half an hour later the high ranking NYPD officer and Homeland Security agent made a quiet exit with their boxes of evidence. Castle was back in the break room eating up the attention and Beckett was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Gates wanted to proceed carefully and actually sat in Castle's chair. "I've been told in no uncertain terms not to ask questions. Still, I wonder if you are ok because you look like you're sick, yet if I risk sending you home it may look like a petty punishment for keeping me in the dark. So I'll ask this, are you feeling well enough to be here today?"

There was a note of genuine concern in her voice which Beckett appreciated. It had to be terrible to be the boss and not be in charge, so Beckett tried to salvage their future working relationship, "I am not contagious. I have the flu strain H3N2 Influenza A according to the consensus of the doctors, including the head of the CDC and the director of a classified facility."

The captain's eyes went wide even with that limited understanding. "Oh! Hmm, it sounds as if your days off were missed, but it's up to you if you want to go home. I don't want to start any blue flu pandemics." The captain was glad Esposito was close enough to overhear the exchange. She returned to her office and let things work themselves out.

Ryan pointedly asked, "Please tell me I can read about it, whatever _it_ is, in the next Nikki Heat adventure?"

"Did you read about the dirty bomb in the last one?" the muse was confident in her editorial assertion.

Esposito summed it up for everyone. "Damn."

* * *

><p>A week later Agent Fallon stepped off the elevator. Paying attention to proper protocol, he stopped into the office to introduce himself to Gates and ask permission to speak to the detective for a few minutes.<p>

It looked casual as they went for coffee in the break room, but the closed door spoke volumes. Castle waved to the many sets of eyes glued to the interchange.

Fallon shared the confidential update. "You deserve to know we're in the clear. The doctor and nurse are cooperating fully. They had medical immunity and the got legal immunity because of the wealth of knowledge about the bio hazard. Don't ask what happened to the rest of the crew." Castle winced but Beckett had her cop mask firmly in place.

The agent continued, "Dmitry Starkey was moved to federal custody. We want your assessment of Gage Harding. He was granted early parole and is being evaluated for certain clandestine employment opportunities."

"Castle, you should know we like Beckett's record better - she gave us more than one second left on the clock. The first patsy was scheduled to fly to Germany Thursday morning. They had plane tickets for Europe and bus tickets for the west coast, Mexico, and Canada. It was timed to erupt simultaneously in 2 dozen cities. Each mule had tickets to a large sporting event or other public gathering to attend."

Castle looked crestfallen. It wasn't the teasing. It was the timing. He could have stalled and let Zhuk fulfill his end of the bargain. He hated himself a little bit right now. Beckett eased closer and linked pinkies with him, challenging his second guessing. Fallon knew an unspoken exchange was taking place. Judging by the clues he needed to quit making light of it.

"Rick, thank God you pieced the clues together and made us stop looking for nukes. Kate, you gave us the lead on the location. We owed you…" Agent Mark Fallon got a funny look on his face. "As a professional courtesy I wanted you to see this report immediately." He handed her the file and left the break room to visit with Ryan and Esposito while she read it.

Castle peered over her shoulder and summarized, "It makes sense to burn down the warehouse. Much faster and more thorough than trying to sanitize it. They can't risk accidental exposure."

Beckett finished reading the report and closed her eyes to keep the tears from betraying her hope. After several minutes desperate to believe in the magic of the universe and poetic justice she opened her eyes. In a fog she levitated out of the break room and towards that ray of hope. As soon as she came over to them Fallon broke off the reunion chatter knowing Ryan and Esposito where listening, but pretended they weren't.

Fallon shared with Beckett in a conversational tone belying the weight of his words, "Alex Huron was an electrician by trade. He took a look at another old warehouse fire close by and duplicated the conditions. Due to national security concerns we don't brief anyone in ahead of time. Since the report came back as it did we didn't need to contact anyone to falsify it."

He answered without her asking, "No one in the fire department had any knowledge of the blaze being deliberately set. I don't know if that means he's dirty or sloppy, but I promise you we did not ask for Inspector Rod Halstead to make arson look accidental. I am sorry you can't reveal this was deliberate, but from what I read a 1 in a million long shot just repeated itself in Union City."

He saw the overwhelming appreciation in their eyes. His voice was quiet, "Good luck. I'd say I hope we never met again but that's not true. I'll be so bold as to insinuate, I hope you'll invite me to any joyous occasions in your future. You two belong together."

It had been over a decade, but Mark Fallon felt his wife smiling down on him and remembered what love was like. He began to believe again, to believe in fairytales, and to believe good triumphs over evil. Most importantly, he remembered sometimes fairytales come true and people live 'happily ever after.'

**The End**

* * *

><p>"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting." - JM Barrie<p>

"Of all the delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed." - Peter Pan

_Final Note:_

_Thanks for reading. This story came about as a writing exercise from a book to make a character face a moral dilemma. From that challenge I mused what Castle would do having to choose between 'the greater good' and 'the murder of Johanna Beckett.' Having Mark Fallon return was a red herring so that nuclear material would obscure a new and different threat for our duo - small pox. I'll admit I am old enough to have a scar from my small pox vaccination. No, I don't have a medical background. All of my research on cobalt 60 and small pox was from Wiki research, so factual errors are quite likely. _

_The rest of the framework was trying to contrast Richard Castle as both Peter Pan (the boy who never grew up) and the author of Derrick Storm novels. I admit I don't have the writing chops to manage it all very well. I didn't do anything with Beckett - she got my attention in previous stories. This story was a monster that needed editing and I grew weary of wrestling with it! Thanks again for reading. The Castle fandom is the best._


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